Torture
by Crona4
Summary: Would not recommend for children under age 13 or anyone with a weak stomach. Rated T for gore and violence, subject to change in the future. What are the effects of Belle's time in the asylum?
1. Chapter 1

Her life was a nightmare. Every hour, every minute, every waking second was agonized torture. And yet, there was no escape. She was on the brink of insanity, listening to the steady _drip, drip, drip_ of the fluid leaking through an invisible crack in the ceiling. She was never able to find the source of the dirty water, but it was all she was given to drink.

There was only one answer she could fathom. Magic, of course, even though such thing was impossible in this land. The Evil Queen did this to her. _No,_ she chastised herself mentally. _You did this. It's your fault._ She continued to speak in her own mind, her lips too chapped and throat too dry to speak. Her thoughts helped calm her a little. They helped keep her in control. She eyed the droplets of water falling to the floor and wished she could go quench her thirst the best she could, but she just didn't see the point.

It was the same routine, day after day. Eventually, when the puddle got big enough, she'd haul herself out of her crimson pool and lick as much as she could off of the cold stone ground. That was usually at the end of the day. She winced as she thought back on what she usually did. _How pathetic,_ she nearly snarled out loud, but kept it in her head. _You were reduced to just this. From the princess of Avonlea down to a weak, shaky girl… How could you let them do that?_

Once again, she had to remind herself that it was her fault. Her eyes traveled to the door as her stomach rumbled for the umpteenth time that day. She hadn't had much to eat at all; the hollowness in her stomach had become almost a part of her, as if without it she would be unrecognizable. She was being fed just enough to not starve to death, but it wasn't enough. Especially considering the fact that usually the food was too dry and rotten that it was hard for her to eat it and when she did, she had a fifty percent chance of throwing it back up.

Yet she knew that she was not getting any more food today. She was already fed one foul-smelling plate within the last day or two and it would be a little while before she received more. Her gaze remained on the thick, impenetrable door because the food always came in through a slip in the exit, when there was food, that is.

She had been there for twenty eight years, one month, one week, and three days now. She never knew the time, but she'd been counting mentally in her head. She had picked up from an interrogator once that her food came at noon sharp. She had plenty of time to do the math. Not to mention she scraped tally-marks into the walls with her fingernails just to keep track.

Her eyes were blank. She was emotionless. She knew that it was the fourth day of the second week. She knew what that entailed. There should have been dread within her. There should have been fear. In their place, though, was a chilly nothing. This occurred monthly; it was also a part of her routine.

She didn't know what had happened to herself. She had once been cheerful and faithful and all in all determined. Her best guess was that she had lost hope. She had lost hope that he was coming for her, that he thought of her, that he even remembered her.

_Rumplestiltskin._

The thought fluttered across her mind, an old memory from another life, a life where she was happier. She yearned for him; her heart pulsed with each passing second. She wished she could be with him. She never knew how well she had it, there at the Dark Castle. He was much more pleasing than this cell, even though it was hard to believe for most. She loved him. She knew that much. She loved the way he giggled, the way he talked, his little quips, his dragon scale vests… She loved it when he said her name.

_Belle._

It always seemed that he had said it so elegantly, so fondly. She would never have traded his presence for anything. Belle had mixed feelings about what she had done. She regretted kissing him, she did, but then again, their kiss had been so… So tender that it thrilled her to the bone just thinking about it, even in this dank cell.

Thoughts of him were the only things keeping her motivated. She doubted he loved her; he wouldn't have sent her away if he did. But if he did love her… That wasn't something she'd want to miss. She wanted to be with him so badly, but she was stuck here.

The door opened. Belle's heart rate quickened slightly as the man clad in white walked in, a mask over his nose and mouth. It was ridiculous that they always wore those masks around her. She wasn't sick or anything. Still, she let him grab her hand and drag her to her feet, leading her with an iron grip out of her cell and into the torturing room. Her eyes were blank.

The door was shut, but even from outside of the wretched place, her screams could be heard loud and clear, a haunting echo of whom she used to be. Her screeches were filled with enough anguish, pain, and heartbreak to bring remorse to anyone who heard them. Except, of course, for the Inflictor himself.

When she emerged with the guard-doctor, her cheeks were wet and her gray clothes were stained scarlet. The man threw Belle roughly into her cell and she squeezed her eyes tight in pure agony for a full minute before dragging herself to the fist-sized puddle of water. She lapped it up like an animal, flinching as the cool, dirty water trickled down her dry throat that hurt even more from shrieking.

Belle stood up the best she could on shaky legs, biting her lip, and stumbled over to her ledge. It was a three foot tall stone extension of the wall that served as her bed usually, when she bothered to pull herself up onto it. It was coated in fresh blood already, making her gag slightly. She reached her hands behind her and tenderly touched the new wounds on her back, biting her lip harder with new tears pricking at her eyes.

In her time at the asylum, they had used a countless number of torture devices on her, but she had to admit that the whip was a new one. It was significantly more painful, the thirty whippings on her old scars, but there was nothing she could do about it. She could only live through it and hope that someday her true love would come and save her.

The tiniest hint of a smile lit her face as she thought of him. No, she didn't think he really loved her back. She may not be his true love, but he was hers. She remembered when she first went to work for him; he was nothing but a beast to her. Now, he was so much more. Now she was taught that there was truly a man behind the monster.

She leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes tight as she remembered him casting her away, trying to block out the pain of the memories as well as the pain of her injuries. She couldn't tell which one was worse. Yet she could still feel his lips on hers; tender and uncertain. The taste lingered on her own lips for a blissful five seconds before it was back to relentless horror from her back.

They usually only scarred her on her back, which was sort of strange to her. The true mystery, though, was why she could still walk. After a certain point, her spine should have been damaged enough to prevent her use of her legs, but for some reason she could still stumble. She hadn't been able to stand straight for a while now, but that was just from exhaustion and lack of nourishment.

It was unhealthy. She really wasn't fed nearly enough, but whenever she tried to speak out about it they had just maimed her body even more. She hadn't spoken a word to them in over twenty years. She hadn't spoken at all in over two months unless you count screams. Every now and then she would speak but usually she didn't see the point in it.

She jumped as her door opened once more, the second time that day. Then she flinched as her back hit the wall. The man that walked in didn't exactly look menacing, though. There was a hint of torment in his ocean eyes, albeit it was gone within seconds. He had slight sideburns and his brown hair curled on top of his head lightly. "Come with me," he said.

Belle opened her mouth and then closed it again. With a determined demeanor about her, she pushed herself as gently as she could off of her ledge, her legs landing beneath her. She placed her hands firmly on the ledge and lifted herself shakily to her feet. The man was waiting; she pushed herself along, one foot in front of the other. She reached him soon enough and he seemed eager to get out of there. "Wh-who are you…?" she asked. Was he new? Was she getting injured again? Was she going to be killed?

"My name is Jefferson," he answered. "I'm here to break you out."

Belle was slightly disappointed that it wasn't Rumplestiltskin helping her escape, but she was grateful either way. She gave a short nod and tried to keep pace with him as he swept out of there. Her legs were weak from disuse, though, and it was difficult. She still tried.

Right before they reached the stairs he grabbed her arm and swiftly detoured her into another room, an unused one. She stared at him strangely, leaning one hand against the wall to keep her upright. "Your back's a bloody mess," he elaborated, making a mini wave of self-consciousness wash over her. He helped her remove her jacket and took off his own darker coat, guiding her into it.

There was no time to thank him. They rushed out of the hospital as soon as they could, lowering their gazes to avoid recognition. Luckily they got through easily enough. The next time he spoke they were walking as briskly they could through winding streets that were very unfamiliar to Belle. "Everyone from the Enchanted Forest is here, in this little town called Storybrooke. Now, no one remembers who they are. They think they are someone else. But with you and me, our curse was not to forget like theirs was, our curse was to remember."

Belle's mind raced as she wondered about Rumplestiltskin, but she simply nodded. Her throat hurt too much to talk more. Not to mention she was starting to get dizzy from blood loss. His jacket was already stained as well, the blood oozing through the fabric. She faltered once. Then again. After the third time she fell, she couldn't get back up.

Jefferson grabbed her as carefully as he could and slung her over his shoulder. Belle would have complained if she'd had the energy. Within five minutes she'd drifted off into unconsciousness. Jefferson continued on at a speed-walk. He knew where to take her. Of course it was one of the first places Regina would check, and that was dangerous, but somehow he knew that she would be safe there with the Savior.

He reached the apartment complex within around ten minutes and walked right in, straight to the stairs. He didn't speak as he carried the marred Beauty up. He knew he had to get her out. He owed it to Grace to get revenge on Regina, and even if he couldn't, he knew Mr. Gold could. He would have waited until the curse was broken, but he figured this timing was perfect. Graham had died, Kathryn Nolan was missing, Emma Swan was sheriff, and Regina was nearly powerless. Nearly.

Jefferson knocked on the door he stood in front of. It opened after just a minute or so and Mary Margaret's surprised face was the first thing he noticed. "Jefferson! What are you doing here? Emma can't do what you-"she cut herself off as she noticed Belle.

Jefferson stepped inside silently and casually set Belle down on a chair at the kitchen table, turning to face Mary Margaret who looked rather shocked. "This is Belle," he explained simply.

Mary Margaret saw all of the blood that coated the poor girl and the jacket. "What happened to her!" she exclaimed worriedly. She hurried over to the unconscious girl, Belle was what Jefferson called her, and removed the jacket, trying not to hurl at the wet crimson sheet that covered the jacked and the plain dress underneath it.

"She was tortured," Jefferson offered. "For twenty-eight years, might I add," he annexed, knowing that Belle would probably be safest in the hands of Snow White herself. Obviously Mary Margaret had some motherly instincts left by how much she was fretting over Belle. "As soon as she is in good enough shape to function properly, call Mr. Gold." Before the schoolteacher could reply, Jefferson had left.

Mary Margaret frowned briefly as he gave no other explanation but closed the door swiftly before returning to Belle. The young woman looked around twenty-five at most. _She must have been tortured since she was a baby…_ the thought enraged her. How dare they! Mary Margaret gently picked Belle up and was surprised at how light she was. The girl couldn't have weighed more than seventy-five pounds, if that. Mary Margaret wasn't very strong herself but she was strong enough to carry Belle over to the bed with just one huff of breath.

She studied the unconscious victim of torment for a few minutes, horrified about what she noticed. Belle's skin was unnaturally pale and she was super skinny. Mary Margaret was afraid to touch her because she feared if she did, the twig-thin girl would easily snap in half. She made sure that Belle would be comfortable under the covers when she woke, if she woke.

She shook that thought from her head and entered the kitchen. That girl seriously needed food. Mary Margaret pulled out chicken and Mac'n'Cheese; it was almost dinner time anyway. She began the cooking, humming to help calm her nerves about Belle. Emma would be home soon and Mary Margaret wasn't sure what she'd think of the new roommate.

It was Mary Margaret's apartment, though, not Emma's. Mary Margaret had the final say in who stayed there. She cast a nervous glance at Belle, but the girl was still sleeping. Still, Mary Margaret poured a glass of water for later. To be honest, Mary Margaret wasn't sure what she thought of Belle staying there. Obviously she couldn't turn her down when she needed her help. She was just a little vexed that she didn't get a say in it. Not that she would have said any differently, but still.

Mary Margaret began to think of David and a small smile lit her face. She knew already what he'd tell her to do. He'd tell her to take care of the desperate, injured girl. So, she decided, that is what she will do. Her mind wandered to Kathryn and her grin fell almost immediately.

She worried for Kathryn, she did. She didn't want anyone to get hurt or worse, killed. Mary Margaret just wanted everyone to be happy and healthy. And she wanted to be with David, but she still felt guilty even though Kathryn was-.

"Where?"

The word nearly scared Mary Margaret out of her skin. She jumped, the spoon in her hand clattering to the floor. Mary Margaret turned around quickly to find Belle sitting up in the bed with the blankets off, staring straight at her with suspicion in her gaze. The girl had brilliant cerulean eyes that looked…empty, somehow, save for the doubt. "Where is he?" Belle asked again. Her voice was hoarse and it obviously hurt her to speak. Even so, there was a beautiful lilt in her voice, the accent surprising Mary Margaret slightly.

Mary Margaret hesitated; Belle didn't appear like she wanted to be there. The girl seemed like she was ready to bolt at any second. Mary Margaret finally decided to answer her question. "Um, Jefferson just handed you to me and told me to take care of you…"

The pained expression on Belle's face told Mary Margaret that that wasn't the answer she wanted. "I mean-"Belle stopped and coughed a few times into her arm, wincing. Mary Margaret rushed over with the glass of water. Belle eyed it for a few seconds, gingerly dipping the tip of her pinkie finger in and tasting it before taking the glass. She gulped it down within a matter of a minute. "Thank you," she said, refreshed. Her voice was no longer hoarse and it was plain to see that Belle felt a little better. "I mean… Where's Rumple?"

"There is no 'Rumple' in this town…" Mary Margaret said slowly, confused. Belle visibly deflated, peering down at the bed with disappointment on her face. "I'm sorry," Mary Margaret added. "I know someone who can help you find him?" she suggested.

Belle shook her head. "No, thank you… I'm not sure he's quite here anymore…" she admitted regretfully. She shouldn't have asked. "Wait a second…" she studied Mary Margaret's face carefully. Her eyes lit as she recognized her. This was Snow White! She was about to say something but then she remembered how Jefferson had said no one remembered who they were. There was question mark on Mary Margaret's face. "Never mind. What's your name?" Belle asked, not wanting to accidentally call her Snow White.

"It's Mary Margaret," Snow-uh, Mary Margaret answered with a small smile before she turned solemn again. "Hey… Does your back need to be treated or something…?"

Belle winced at the mention of her back, which seared with a raging fire started by the Inflictors. She glanced away, a distant look filling her gaze. Her mouth was in a tight line as she remembered everything that had been done to her. Her blank eyes began to fill up with tears but she paid them no mind.

Mary Margaret's own green eyes flashed with panic. "Oh my god, I am so sorry!" she gasped as a few tears slipped down Belle's cheeks. Mary Margaret wasn't sure what she was sorry for; her best guess was that she had triggered something. She reached out to place one hand on Belle's arm.

Right as they were about to touch, Belle jerked away roughly, ignoring the inaudible complaints of her wounds. "I'm fine," she spoke quickly, averting her gaze. Her stomach grumbled at her and she bent over, embarrassed, now refusing to look at Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret gasped as she realized the food was still cooking. She ran into the kitchen to find both parts of dinner cooked completely. She had learned long ago to time it like that. "Hungry?" she called, but Belle didn't reply. Mary Margaret filled three plates, leaving the rest of it on the counter. She placed two of the plates on the table; those were for her and Emma when Emma returned. Just as Mary Margaret was crossing towards Belle, she remembered a fork and backtracked slightly to retrieve one.

She took the food over to Belle, who accepted the plate and fork but didn't quite eat it yet. She slowly moved so her legs were hanging off the bed. Belle took a deep breath and let it out slowly before lifting her fork and staring down at her plate. "What is that orange stuff?" she asked cautiously.

"Macaroni and Cheese," Mary Margaret replied simply. "It's really good. Try it."

Hesitantly Belle scooped some of the noodles onto her fork as her stomach complained at the smell. She lifted the utensil to her mouth and took a small bite of the stuff. She was delighted at the taste; she really liked it. She shoveled the rest on the fork into her mouth before she finished chewing.

The food hitting her empty stomach made her shudder and gag but she continued to eat, too hungry to stop. She eventually got used to the feeling as she ate and no longer responded to it.

When she finished she wished she could have more but decided not to be greedy. Mary Margaret came to retrieve her plate. "Thank you," Belle said for the umpteenth time that day. She stretched her legs, watching quietly as Mary Margaret washed off the plates. "Am I allowed to stand up?"

Mary Margaret met Belle's gaze briefly before returning to the dishes. "If you can stand up, then yeah, of course you're allowed to." Belle nodded and lowered herself onto her feet. She stood up, swaying slightly. She took two steps in the direction of the kitchen before pausing, the world swinging a little bit. Luckily Mary Margaret didn't notice.

Belle took three more steps, onto the tile floor of the kitchen, and instantly wished she hadn't. She felt instantly dizzy and doubled over with a wince, her stomach arguing with itself as she vomited right on the ground. She staggered backwards and groaned in pain and disgust. She tripped over the carpet and fell to the floor. "I-I'm so sorry!" she gasped. "I can clean it up," she offered, mortified.

The teacher bit back a sigh as she grabbed a handful of paper towels. "No, it's alright," she rejected. "It's my fault; I should have given you something lighter. You probably haven't eaten much, have you?" It was a rhetorical question, but Belle answered anyway.

"I would get one half of a plate a day, four days a week," she answered almost systematically as she stood up. Despite the risks, she walked over to Mary Margaret and took the paper towels. "I'll clean it up. I used to be a maid," she insisted, feeling a little better as she crouched down partly to clean and partly to hide her embarrassment.

Mary Margaret would have argued that Belle needed rest, but she heard the stubbornness in the girl's voice. "Okay… You want me to go get the mop?" she asked. It occurred to her that if this Belle was really away for her life she should not be able to speak as well, but she figured that they must have taught her while she was wherever she was.

A look of confusion crossed Belle's face. "N-no, that's okay," she refused since she had never used a mop before, only knowing what it was from the Curse. "I'll just take a rag and a bucket of warm water, if that's alright? It'll clean it right up."

"Umm… Okay," Mary Margaret agreed, first grabbing a clean rag before searching her cabinets for a bucket. Belle was coming off as rather strange and…off to her. Mary Margaret wasn't completely sure she liked the feeling the girl gave her. Of course she would still let Belle stay at her apartment because that's the right thing to do, but she sensed something dark about the girl.

"Miss Blanchard! You will not believe what my mom did today!" shouted a little voice as the door opened. Belle stared in surprise as a young boy obviously still in grade school and a woman who Belle assumed was around Mary Margaret's age walked in.

The new woman shook her head a little bit at the quizzical expression on Mary Margaret's face. "Oh come on, all I did was save a kitten from a tree. It's not that amazing," the blonde argued with the brown-haired boy.

The boy rounded on her and Belle noticed a book in his hands. "No. All you did was save the _Cheshire_ cat from a tree. It really is amazing!" he stressed. Belle stood up warily, not quite sure if these people were good or not. She backed up towards the bed, glad that the newcomers hadn't seen her yet. She wasn't exactly scared of them, but she was a little cautious after what she'd been through in the last twenty eight years.

Mary Margaret had noticed her, though. "Belle!" she called, exiting the kitchen and brushing past the others. That's when they noticed Belle…and her paleness...and the scarlet stains on the bed and her clothes. Mary Margaret reached the bed and took Belle's hands in hers. "Belle, it's okay. They're good; they won't hurt you."

A sudden wave of pride washed over Belle and she took her hands away. "I'm not worried about them hurting me," she partially lied. They really didn't seem dangerous; the blonde woman was a little skeptical but all in all they didn't exactly scare her. She was just a little self-conscious at that point considering the back of her dress was crimson by now.

Furthermore, when she stepped forwards to face the two she made sure that she was at an angle where they wouldn't see her back very well. She lifted her chin slightly, a look of defiance in her eyes. Her legs were still a little wobbly but she was getting used to walking again and she was sadly also starting to get used to the pain.

The kid rushed up to her, excitement in his eyes. "What's your name?" he asked eagerly, since apparently he didn't hear Mary Margaret utter her name twice.

Belle blinked at him a couple of times. "I could ask the same of you…" she responded before she noticed a movement the blonde made. The woman had put her hand to her belt, where a gun-the Inflictors had once tried that on her arm over twenty years ago-and Belle flinched, eyeing it. The woman shot her a death glare and Belle answered quickly. "Belle. My name is Belle."

The boy nodded and carried his book swiftly to the table, shuffling through it wordlessly. The blonde kept her hand on her gun, but introduced the two of them. "Sheriff Emma Swan, and that's my son Henry," she told Belle with suspicion in her voice.

Belle still stared at the gun. "Listen, I… I don't mean you any harm. Y-you don't have to use that…" she stuttered, rubbing her left arm quickly. The wound had long since healed but she didn't exactly want to get shot again.

Emma looked towards Mary Margaret, who came up and looped her left arm with Belle's right. "It's okay Emma," Mary Margaret reassured the sheriff. "You can trust her. She hasn't hurt anyone yet."

To avoid humiliation, Belle stepped away from the large group, biting her lip as she retrieved the bucket of water and rag from the counter. When Emma saw the girl's blood that had seeped through the dress on her backside, her eyes widened considerably. "Holy cra-cheese!" she covered quickly, remembering that Henry was there.

Belle stiffened as she realized her backside was exposed but continued on determinedly to clean up her mess. She could hear Emma and Mary Margaret talk about her and she just tensed slightly and scrubbed harder. She used to clean much worse messes at the Dark Castle, when she still worked for Rumplest-.

"What in the world happened to her?" Emma asked Mary Margaret, shocked out of her mind. No wonder the girl didn't want her to use her gun… She obviously looked like she had quite a history in violence if Emma ever saw one.

Mary Margaret kept her gaze on Belle. "I'm not completely sure. Jefferson dropped her off when she was unconscious but he wasn't very specific… All he said was she was tortured for the last twenty-eight years." She cast a concerned glance at Emma, noting the horrified expression on the sheriff's face. "She doesn't like to talk about it, though. And I don't know why, I mean I can guarantee she doesn't mean any trouble, but I sense something dark when I'm near her…"

Emma nodded in understanding. "That's what made me nearly bring my gun out. Has she eaten? God, she looks like a twig…" she muttered.

There was a pause before Mary Margaret replied. "Yeah, I tried to feed her some of what I made for us. By the way your plate is on the table. Anyway, I guess it didn't settle well with her stomach or something because… Well, she's cleaning up the result right now. I was going to clean it but she had claimed that she used to be a maid," she elaborated.

"That's impossible," Emma responded immediately. "If she's been tortured for twenty-eight years then she must have been tortured ever since she was real young, considering she seems no older than I am," she reasoned.

Mary Margaret nodded in agreement. "I know. It's horrible, how much she's been through, but I still think there's something she's not telling us…"

Both of them were surprised when Belle spoke up, purposefully interrupting their conversation. "I hate to break it to you guys, but according to my calculations I am in my mid-fifties. Some of the other people in this town are also older than they think, but they just don't know it."

Emma watched her place the bucket on the countertop dubiously. "What's that supposed to mean?" she inquired, stopping herself from placing her hand on her belt. The girl was acting really suspicious…

Belle turned around and smiled at Emma. "Nothing," she revealed partially. "Nothing at all." She began her journey back to the bed but fatigue was starting to take its toll on her and she stumbled a little bit but she reached it before falling or tripping. She sat down on it and glimpsed guiltily at the stains her blood had left. "I can clean the covers and sheets if you want?" she offered.

Henry contemplated the girl as Emma, Mary Margaret, and Belle figured things out. His curiosity with her was piqued by her words. How did she know that they were all a lot older than they thought? Henry decided that he would have a talk with her tomorrow. Tomorrow was Sunday. He knew that Miss Blanchard always graded papers at the school on Sundays. Maybe then he'd be able to talk to her about what she knows.

Emma remembered that Henry was still there. "Hey Kid, I've got to get you home. It's almost seven o'clock. Your mom's going to kill both of us," she remarked, grabbing her keys and starting towards the door. "I'll eat after I come home," Emma glanced at Mary Margaret before continuing out the door, herding Henry like a sheepdog.

Mary Margaret helped Belle get settled on the bed despite the girl's protests that she could do it on her own. Belle argued that she wasn't tired and requested a book. It was partly true. Physically, she was exhausted, but mentally she was wide awake. Mary Margaret disappeared for a full ten seconds before returning with a book. Belle thanked her kindly and started on the book.

The minutes ticked by rather slowly as Belle read contentedly and Mary Margaret cleaned the remnants and leftovers from dinner. A silence overtook them; the stillness awkward in a way. Mary Margaret cast nervous glances at Belle every now and then. Tomorrow the girl would have to bathe. She was already filthy as it was, though Mary Margaret was sure she knew that.

Due to the long quietness, Mary Margaret was a little shocked when Belle spoke up. "I know I should be going to sleep soon, but I think my mind is so active because I've been wondering… Well…" she laughed wryly, her nose still in her book even as she talked. "Jefferson said for you to call Mr. Gold once I was 'well enough'… Who is Mr. Gold?"

Mary Margaret hesitated. In the back of her mind, she had been pondering why Jefferson had instructed her to call Mr. Gold, of all people. Maybe he could help protect her politically? The teacher really had no idea. "Mr. Gold is… He's a public menace. I don't mean to sound rude but I really can't think of any other way to describe him. He runs the pawn shop. He also always gets his payment, no matter what. He owns just about all of the land in Storybrooke, including the apartment complex you, Emma, and I inhabit right now," she elaborated.

Belle blinked a couple of times before nodding in understanding. That sounded like who Rumplestiltskin could be… Right? A strict businessman with low tolerance for nonpayment? That sounded a lot like him. "When is he collecting rent next?" she asked, trying to act curious instead of excited.

"Tomorrow, actually," Mary Margaret replied instantly. "He'll be here in the morning, around ten o'clock. I'm going to grade papers at the school so I'll have the door unlocked and I'm going to leave the rent on the counter. When he comes… I suggest you try your best to stay away from him. He's not exactly good news," she informed her new roommate.

To Belle, though, that was amazing news. A chance to see Rumple again? She was all for it. She wasn't sure if this Mr. Gold was Rumple or if Rumple even loved her, but… Just the thought of being able to know gave her chills of anticipation and joy. "Will do. I'll probably be busy reading anyway," she smiled. She knew that that was what Mary Margaret wanted to hear.

Once again, it went quiet. After just five minutes, Belle was fast asleep. Mary Margaret watched her for a full two minutes before returning to her work. Belle was snoring ever so gently, the sound soothing to Mary Margaret.

The door opened. Mary Margaret turned towards the sound, alarmed. She calmed as she realized it was just Emma. The teacher held one finger to her lips, signaling for Emma to be quieter. The blonde understood, and nodded. She beckoned Mary Margaret into the bathroom; neither of them speaking quite yet.

Emma closed the door; they needed to talk in private. Mary Margaret had a question mark on her face. "I needed to be sure no one heard us," Emma explained. "But, we need to talk about this Belle. I cannot believe you let the mad guy bring this shadowy girl into your home and then you just accepted her as if she was completely normal," she jumped right to the point.

"What do you mean? Why not?"

A sigh emanated from the sheriff. "This girl was tortured as long as I've been alive. Don't you think that there may be an actual reason for it? Maybe she was a criminal. Maybe she was a mass murderer! You don't know her background," Emma whisper-stressed.

Mary Margaret shook her head slowly. "Other than the darkness I feel around her, which may just be from what she's been through, she's completely harmless. She wouldn't hurt a fly," she defended the girl sleeping in the other room.

Still, though, Emma looked doubtful. "I'm not sure… Tomorrow I'll be questioning her on who she really is and what happened. You know, why she was hurt so badly. What she did to deserve it," she revealed her intentions for the next day. "It'll be in the morning, before I go to the sheriff's station."

Mary Margaret looked horrified at the idea. She had experienced first-handedly how much Belle's past pained her. "You can't!" she whisper-shouted. "I asked her about it earlier and she went all pale and she almost cried. It's obviously an uncomfortable subject for her. You wouldn't want someone to interrogate you about how your parents abandoned you, would you?" she reasoned.

Emma winced at that last comment but chose to ignore it, moving on with the other part of the conversation. "Come on, if she didn't deserve it, then it's a case. It would be cruel and unusual punishment and against the law. I'm the sheriff, it's my job to know who scarred her and why. I know it will be hard for her, but she's just going to have to…" she trailed off, contemplating. "Suck it up," she settled. "Yeah, we've all been through bad things. A lot has happened to everyone, but that's no reason for obstruction of justice."

There was a pause while Mary Margaret thought about what to say that would not backfire immediately. "She's been through a lot today Emma. Go ahead and question her tomorrow but don't be too harsh," she responded. Emma opened her mouth to reply, but then closed it as Mary Margaret continued. "I once heard from someone that you can't judge a person without truly knowing them. Please, Emma, don't pressure her. And don't judge her until you know the full story," she pleaded.

With a sigh, Emma agreed. "Are you taking the couch or the guest mattress?"

**~XXX~**

Belle sat still in the chair. Mary Margaret had warned her about this when she'd woken up at six o'clock, about an hour ago. Mary Margaret had already left for school, but Emma sat across from Belle, who was having a hard time keeping still. She bit her lip, shuffled her hands, and twiddled her fingers…

"So, Belle," Emma began. The girl in question nodded once, nervousness in her posture. "Relax," Emma told her. She nodded again but did nothing more. "So, as I am the sheriff of Storybrooke, I need to talk to you about what you've been through. I know it's going to be hard for you, but just bear with me, okay?" Another nod. "Alright. So, first, tell me about yourself."

Belle took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My name is Belle French. I enjoy reading and silence and tea. I believe that sometimes the best teacup is chipped. I… Um, yeah. Th-that's it…" she trailed off, not wanting to say too much.

Emma wrote the information down on a clipboard. "Is that it?" A nod. "Alright. Now, I need to see your back, to determine exactly how bad it is." Belle's eyes widened slightly. Mary Margaret had helped her change out of her dress into jeans-the concept was still new to her-and a T-shirt.

Even so, Belle stood up on wobbly, unused legs. She turned around, her back facing in Emma's direction. She backed up slightly to let Emma look. The savior-Belle knew she was the savior-gently lifted the girl's shirt and nearly puked at the sight. She gagged, but was able to keep her bile down luckily.

What she saw was not a back. What she saw was a mangled, beaten, and battered surface with flesh torn and ripped everywhere. It was swollen and very, very bloody. It was hardly recognizable as part of a human being. Emma gently skimmed her fingers over the clumps of skin and blood, concern on her face as Belle stiffened. No matter what, no human should be put through this. "Belle, I need you to tell me three things, okay?" she inquired cautiously. Belle agreed. "First, I need to know where you were when this happened. Next, I need to know who did this to you. Finally, I need to know why this happened."

Belle paused for a full minute before she answered. "I was at the mental asylum. It's a hidden ward under the hospital, in the basement. It wasn't like a regular psych ward, though. This one… This one was worse. Second, the woman in black did this. I-I don't know her name," she lied. "Her and her Inflictors would attack me once a month. Finally… This happened because I fell," she very vaguely expressed.

Emma stared at her suspiciously before asking for explanation. "What do you mean, you fell? Did you hurt someone important or something?" she guessed.

A dry laugh came from Belle's mouth as she shook her head slowly. "In love, Emma. I fell in love. It's a dangerous thing, if you've ever experienced it. But all that's done. He's gone. You don't have to worry about it," Belle said. She pulled her shirt down and stood up, smiling at Emma. She didn't know why she had been so anxious; she had had a night to settle her thoughts. It was actually rather easy now that she was done with it.

"Don't I know it…" Emma remarked about the dangerousness of love. "Alright, I'll be having a therapist coming over in a few days to check on you and see if you needed to be in that asylum. Don't take it too personally; it's mandatory. Anyway, I've got to get to work. You sure you'll be fine here on your own?"

Belle kept the smile on her face. "Yeah, totally. Go ahead. Don't worry about me." Emma nodded at the reply and began walking out the door. She didn't feel so bad about staying with Belle after she had seen the scars up close. It was clear to see that the girl needed help, and she was not going to be the one to deny it to her, however Belle still seemed a little odd.

As Emma left, Belle turned towards the clock. Only 7:07. She sighed; she wanted to know who Mr. Gold was. About another three hours; Mary Margaret had informed her he came around ten in the morning. Belle looked around in wonder. She was surprised that she knew was a lot of the modern technologies were. At least the curse did something good to her. There were a few things she still didn't know and a lot of the foods were completely new, but she was working on learning what she was clueless about.

She had gotten used to the ache of her back, especially since it was dulled down a little bit by this miracle that Mary Margaret had called Tylenol. Belle wandered throughout the house, studying her surroundings. It was a rather small apartment, and with three people living in it, it was sort of cozy. She felt bad about taking the only actual bed; she'd volunteer to move to the couch after the bed sheets were washed thoroughly.

She had never had a chance since escaping the asylum to really think about the train of events. Jefferson had been kind to her and she appreciated that greatly. He had even sacrificed his jacket to help her. She wasn't sure of his intentions, but she was grateful just for what he had done. Mary Margaret was really nice, wholehearted, and all in all just like Belle had heard about the legendary Snow White from cellmates at the Evil Queen's tower. Emma, on the other hand… Emma was different from those two. The woman seemed cold at times, like she only cared about a few, but at other times she was more playful and welcoming. From what Belle had seen, anyway. She knew that she could trust Emma. Emma was the savior.

Belle finally decided to gather all of the stained covers on the bed and take them to the washer machine. The curse allowed her to know how to use this machine as well. She was partially glad that she wasn't helpless with modern technology. She threw the bedding into the washer and set it to deep-clean. She didn't know why Mary Margaret had her own washer instead of using the ones that were public in the building, but she figured that the woman must have her reasons.

After throwing on a clean over shirt to make sure the furniture stayed as dry as possible, Belle fetched the book she had started and began where she had left off on the couch. She had about 150 pages left; once she was done she would try to take a bath and wash the dried blood from her skin.

Mary Margaret had promised to pick up some more clothing in Belle's size as the teacher was a couple of sizes larger due to Belle's malnourishment, but for now Belle was borrowing clothes from Mary Margaret and Emma.

Earlier that day, Belle had been able to swallow some scrambled eggs, which were strange to her but she grasped the concept soon enough, without it coming back up. Also she had tried something called coffee. She didn't really like the bitter taste, though Mary Margaret and Emma loved it.

It was still odd to Belle that Mary Margaret and Emma didn't know they were mother and daughter, but she dealt with it. It was just the curse. The curse that the man she loved invented. The curse that the Evil Queen cast.

She shook her head slightly and returned to her reading. At around nine o'clock she finished the book, a full hour and a half of reading for the fifty pages. She was crying by the end of it. This book was titled _The Fault In Our Stars_ and was completely not okay in any way at all. Belle wiped her cheeks and gently placed the book where it belonged on the bookshelf, gathering a handful of clothes before retiring to the restroom for a very excruciating experience.

The pain was searing but she survived and soon enough she found herself dressed with extra cloth covering her backside. She was brushing through her wet hair when she heard the door open. Her feet pattered lightly against the tile as she ventured out of the bathroom. Her blue eyes were curious and she had completely forgotten about Mr. Gold coming.

She carried the brush out to the living room to see who was there. Immediately, after one look, the brush slipped out of her hand. She stared at him agape; she'd recognize him anywhere. His skin was different, as were his eyes, but those were just the effects of the curse. He was still _him._

He was picking up the check that was his rent from Miss Blanchard when he heard a clatter. It surprised him as he had previously thought that he was alone. "Sneaking up on me, eh, dear-"he cut himself off as he got a look at the person who had made the clatter. She was familiar. Hauntingly familiar, even. Could it be…? No. She was a ghost. He was imagining things. But yet, it seemed so real. He couldn't get any words out.

Belle was frozen, just as he was. She flashed back momentarily to something Jefferson had told her. _"…no one remembers who they are…"_ Her heart sunk. No, He didn't remember her; he couldn't. He must be just surprised that someone was there. The hope faded from her eyes, leaving disappointment and grief. "I-I'm sorry… I just… I'm just staying with Miss-I mean Mary Margaret…" she stuttered nervously, not able to look away.

The disbelief on his face grew. He couldn't have imagined her speaking right there. He couldn't have imagined that beautiful accent that had tormented him for years on end. He couldn't have imagined her unforgettable blue eyes that glinted in the light. "…Belle?" he tried, though he wasn't sure she remembered him, or if she was actually there.

Relief flooded her eyes as her mouth was forced into an undeniably beautiful and hopeful smile. "Rumplestiltskin!" she gasped. In an instant she was running towards him as fast as she could while he still tried to process it. At that moment, she didn't care about her wounds. She didn't care about her wet hair. She didn't care that she was wearing too-big clothes. She didn't care that her stomach was still hollow. No. All she cared about right now was _him._

She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, sobbing in joy against his chest. She couldn't formulate any words right then. He encircled her shoulders with his own arms, still bewildered and oblivious to her injuries.

He held her as close as possible, no words being exchanged. The bliss of her in his arms was incredible, and he basked in it, a smile blossoming on his face. And not one of those fake, deal-making smiles. No, this one was genuine. Had she gotten smaller? He shrugged it off for now. At that instant, all he wanted to do was breathe in her sweet, comforting scene. She smelled a little bit of roses and she had this papery aroma about her, definitely from her nose stuck in a book. Wait. There was something else there, too. He scrunched up his nose slightly but couldn't identify it. He once again ignored it and figured he'd deal with it later.

"I love you." Belle's tearful words left him speechless for a short while. He had never thought he'd be able to touch her again, or hold her, or hear her speak… He'd thought no one in their right mind would ever say _those_ words to him, even her.

He hesitated no longer. "I love you, too," he whispered to the top of her head, his voice hoarse from the shock of seeing her alive and well. He could feel her smile against his shoulder. Abruptly she pulled back, leaving him confused, but only for a few seconds. Immediately, she pressed her lips firmly against his.

The kiss was amazing for both of them. Neither of them thought they'd ever get that again. They'd both thought that they would be forever separated. But no, their love won out. They found each other. Even so, the kiss was brief.

Mr. Gold leaned against the countertop, his bad leg being troublesome. He vaguely remembered dropping his cane. He didn't care. He had Belle. He moved his hands downward, towards her lower back, and the moment he touched it, a short cry exploded from Belle's lips and she stumbled backwards a step.

"Belle? What's wrong?" Mr. Gold asked worriedly as a flash of agony crossed over Belle's eyes. She was in pain. Why was she in pain? She was his Belle; he wouldn't allow her to be in pain ever.

She shook her head a little bit and then came back to try and engulf him in her embrace again, but he placed his hands on her shoulder, pushing her away enough to be able to look into her eyes. Blood. That's the other thing he smelled on her. Instantly he became enraged, though he kept it under control the best he could as to not freak out Belle. "Who hurt you? Where? Tell me," he demanded impatiently.

Belle withdrew until her legs touched the table, just a few feet away. She crossed her arms over her chest and switched her gaze to the ground. She was quiet after that, embarrassed at how pathetic she had acted. She was a grown woman. She should have had more control. "Nothing. I'm not in pain," she insisted stubbornly.

The look he gave her was like daggers to her heart. His eyes said that he would not be fooling around. "I mean it, Belle." Oh, how he loved saying her name. "Where are you wounded, and who did it?"

A sigh emanated from Belle's mouth. She couldn't lie to him. She paused before abruptly lifting the two layers of shirts up over her head, keeping her bra on for the sake of not being completely and utterly mortified. All Mr. Gold could see was how thin she was; how hollow her stomach must be. Her ribs jutted out unhealthily, each one clear as day. He couldn't understand how a human could live with so little in their stomach. The thought of someone doing that to his Belle sickened him. That's when she turned around.

Mr. Gold's breath caught in his throat at the sight he beheld. Her back was an absolute mess. He couldn't tell where skin ended and gashes began. He couldn't tell where one scar ended and another began. All he could tell was she was very, very badly hurt. Rage and pure, searing ire bubbled up inside of him. "Who did this to you!" he shouted.

Belle flinched. Instantly, Mr. Gold felt bad, but he didn't take back his question. He was about to ask again when Belle spoke, spinning around to face him once more. "The Evil Queen," she answered with a defiant look in her eyes. "But you are _not_ allowed to go confront her or hurt her. Please," her voice turned soft. "Enough blood has been shed already. Please control it. For me."

Mr. Gold took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay… I promise," he vowed. "But if she does one more thing to you, she might not live to see another day," he warned. But Belle smiled anyway, because if something did happen again and he wanted to do something, she knew she'd be able to stop him again.

With a bright face, she made her way back to him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into the crook of his neck. She completely forgot that she didn't have her shirt on, but she didn't care. After so long, she wanted to be as close to him as possible, and that wasn't going to be interrupted by silly cloths.

On the other hand, Mr. Gold was feeling embarrassed by having her bare, caved-in stomach press against his suit. He liked it, though he felt like he was invading her. She didn't say anything on the matter, so he assumed that it was alright with her.

"I've missed you so much…" she whispered to him, her voice soft and broken. He couldn't find any words to say, so he just squeezed her shoulders gently. "Can you…" she started, and then hesitated before continuing. "Can you stay for a little while? I want to talk to you. But if not, that's okay…" she inquired.

Mr. Gold glanced at the time. It was 10:12. "I can stay until eleven," he promised, never wanting to let go. At eleven, though, he had to get back to collecting rent. He wished he could skip a day but then he'd be viewed as soft. He absolutely couldn't have that. It was tempting, for Belle, but he couldn't bring himself to skip. He could feel Belle smile against him and he couldn't help but smile as well.

They parted after about five minutes of just sitting there contentedly. Belle pulled on both layers of shirts, finally feeling mortified about pressing against Mr. Gold with nothing to cover her top but a bra. Both of them sat down on the couch quietly, not sure what to say.

Eventually, after a few minutes of awkward silence, Belle realized how fatigued she was. She leaned her head tentatively against his shoulder, and he tensed slightly. Belle was about to retreat when Mr. Gold's arm reached out and wrapped around her. It was still strange for both of them; they hadn't seen each other in so long yet they knew that they loved each other.

All manners of talking were erased from both of their minds. They slowly inched their bodies closer until they were as close as they could be. Belle's face was pressed in the crook of Mr. Gold's neck, a place she decided that she liked. Mr. Gold had his chin resting atop her head and his arms were wrapped around her, though he was wary of her back.

Words could not explain how lucky he felt right then; how glad he was to have his Beauty back. He couldn't think of a legit reaction. Only shock. He could feel nothing but her body pressed on top of him. They were still fully clothed-they weren't to _that_ stage-but it was still very intense both ways.

Another ten minutes and Belle was asleep. They had moved to a position a little more comfortable. Belle was curled on top of Mr. Gold, and he ignored the pain in his leg just like she ignored the pain in her back. They were too happy, too in love to be deterred by such small things.

There was the gentle sound of Belle's slight snoring as Mr. Gold leaned his head back. He knew he'd have to get up eventually. It pained him to think such a thing, to think of leaving his love, but things had to be done. Maybe he could take her with him? After momentary contemplating, he determined that that was the best idea he could come up with.

For now, though, he just wanted to relax with her. She was his, and he was hers finally… He still wondered how she had escaped death. Regina told him-wait. No. _Regina_ told him that Belle died. Regina was the Evil Queen. The Evil Queen was not to be trusted. He narrowed his eyes in hatred. It was times like this that he really wished he had his magic.

Instead, he just had to cling to the hope that the savior would break the curse soon so that he could find his son. It was even better now that Belle was back. Just Baelfire, Belle, and him. It would be perfect. He shook his head slowly. No. Something was going to go wrong, he just knew it. He was a villain, and everybody knew that villains don't get happy endings.

Except half of his happy ending was sitting in his arms right now, sleeping more peacefully than he'd ever seen anyone else sleep. Mr. Gold didn't understand that, though. She should be having nightmares. He'd seen her back. Regina had done that to her. How was she so calm?

The truth was that she had had quite enough nightmares last night, but he didn't know that. Belle felt safer with him, like as long as she was pressed against him, nothing in the world could hurt her. She had been so tired because of the bad dreams mentioned earlier. She had dreamt of torture and pain and suffering and loneliness.

Unfortunately for her, Belle was never one to wake up kicking and thrashing, so no one heard her when she simply woke up with nothing but a simple gasp of horror. She hadn't wanted to wake anyone up; that would have been just plain rude. Now she had to deal with the consequences of three hours of sleep, consequences that she didn't mind now that her beloved was here.

Mr. Gold heard the door open, but ignored it. "Belle, I'm home early. I, uh, I brought some more tea packets." It was that pesky princess/bandit/schoolteacher. Previously Snow White, now Mary Margaret Blanchard. Mr. Gold closed his eyes briefly. She would wake Belle up. "Oh, Mr. Gold. I, uh, I didn't know you were here," she continued nervously, only seeing the back of Mr. Gold's head as she kicked off her shoes. "Um, I put the money on the-"

Mary Margaret screamed. Her first thought of seeing Belle and Mr. Gold was that the man had killed her or drugged her or something. "Get away from her!" she screeched in anger, forgetting what Jefferson had said.

Belle jumped, waking up at the shriek. She fell off of Mr. Gold's lap, rubbing her eyes in confusion. Mr. Gold dropped down beside her despite his leg, glaring daggers at Mary Margaret. "Belle, are you okay?" he asked.

Belle didn't get a chance to answer because Mary Margaret was pulled her up and away from him. "Get away from her, you creep!" she repeated, kicking Mr. Gold three times repeatedly, not thinking of what could be made from it. Right now, she just wanted to protect Belle, because even though Belle gave off a dark sense, Mary Margaret knew that her intentions were always good.

"Mary Margaret, stop!" Belle shouted with tears in her eyes. "Stop it, please!" she pleaded, her back searing with every painstakingly slow moment that passed. "Please," she repeated, sounding small and weak and broken. The truth was that there was nothing she could do about it. She was still drowsy from sleep and her legs were stiff as a board.

Finally, Mary Margaret stopped as she heard Belle's last wounded cry. She turned around to find Belle, sobbing as she stared at her with a brief flicker of distrust in her eyes, her hands covering her mouth. "But, Belle," Mary Margaret began, her voice strained. "He was hurting you. I saw it."

Belle shook her head frantically. "No. He wasn't hurting me," she insisted before redirecting her attention towards Mr. Gold, who was struggling onto his feet, using his cane for support with a hateful glower in Mary Margaret's direction. Belle hastily placed herself between the two, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry! Are you alright?" she choked out.

Mr. Gold nodded. "I'm fine, Belle. But I don't think your little friend will be so fine after I'm through with her…" he muttered. He took a step forwards, but Belle tightened her hold, stopping him.

"I can't let you do that," Belle pulled back to look him in the eyes. Her cerulean orbs were hard with defiance. "She's my friend. She just got scared, I promise… Please don't press charges… She has a hard enough time paying her rent," she elaborated, ignoring Mary Margaret's protest. "Please, Mr. Gold. Do this for me…"

A low growl rose in Mr. Gold's throat. He normally wouldn't let anyone get away with touching him or Belle, but Belle was pleading with him, begging him to not do anything. He let out a sigh of defeat. "Just this once, _Miss Blanchard,"_ he sneered, making the schoolteacher flinch. He smirked at that.

Mary Margaret was still beyond jumbled with how close Belle and Mr. Gold were, but she couldn't find any words. Why was she touching him so carelessly? Didn't she know how horrible he was?

Mr. Gold sighed and took Belle's arms, starting to pull her towards the door. "You're not safe here, Belle. You're coming with me, back to my home," he determined, making Belle stare at him in bewilderment. She planted her feet firmly on the ground to make it harder for him to pull her. He turned to look at her. "Now, Belle."

Usually he would have been a little more careful with her, but he'd just been kicked, He wasn't going to deal with her stubbornness. A rebellious look crossed into Belle's eyes. "No," she answered simply, jerking her hand back and crossing her arms over her chest, a level look on her face.

Mr. Gold had pure disbelief on his face. "Excuse me?" he asked, but she just nodded, a little scared at the dangerous look on his face. Mr. Gold's rage flared. "How dare you! You're breaking your deal, dearie! You gave your word that you would stay with me forever! You're coming with me, _now!"_ he yelled.

"No! I made a deal in the other land. This isn't the Enchanted Forest anymore! I'm no longer your servant! And if anything, _you_ broke my side of the deal. _You threw me out!_ You kicked me aside like I was nothing more than a helpless, weak child! I am tired of being tossed around by everyone!" Belle seethed.

Mary Margaret was almost as scared of Belle at that moment as she was confused at the whole thing. "Whoa, whoa, whoa… Slow down and explain, please," she spoke up, staring between the two with a mixture of emotions on her face. "Wait, is this about Henry's little Operation: Cobra thing?"

Both Belle and Mr. Gold turned towards Mary Margaret, their argument forgotten temporarily. "What Operation: Cobra thing?" Belle asked curiously, her voice hiding a hint of caution. She had been slightly interested in that Henry kid; he seemed rather nice and she had definitely been planning on getting to know him.

"It's some silly thing he has made up. I had given him this Once Upon A Time book with a bunch of old fairytales in it and he's convinced himself that this whole town is cursed and that we're really fairytale characters," she explained with a little laugh. "Apparently Emma is the 'savior' and she's the only one who can break the curse. It's crazy, right?"

Mr. Gold and Belle exchanged a _look_. "Yeah… Pretty crazy…" Belle agreed slowly, returning her gaze to the teacher. "Um, you might be a little confused… I'm sorry you had to see us fight. We have… History before the… You know, before the asylum," she stressed, looking between Mary Margaret and Mr. Gold. "I used to be his maid and then one day I almost broke something of his that was apparently very important and he kind of fired me."

Mary Margaret nodded slowly. It was starting to come together. It did make sense since Belle had mentioned the day before how she used to be a maid. There was just one thing she didn't understand. "You mentioned the 'Enchanted Forest'… What's that about?" she inquired, her arms crossed.

"You're going to judge a man on how he lives his life and what he names his home? Tsk, tsk, dearie," Mr. Gold commented. He no longer looked open and inviting. He was guarded and mysterious again.

Belle had to admit that she was a little disappointed that he was back to being the cold shop owner, but her humor at his comment won over and she found herself smiling a little bit. Oh, the dearie was what got her. She had gone so long without hearing him utter that word in that special way of his. She loved it when he said that.

Before another word could be uttered, the door swung open. In stepped Emma with her gun out and loaded, surveying the scene but not pointing her gun at anyone in particular yet. "Your neighbors heard screaming. Is everyone alright? Nothing's broken? What happened?" she pressed, worried that something had happened to one of the people she cared for. She turned her gun on Mr. Gold, who held his hands up in surrender, mocking everybody else.

"Nothing's wrong, Emma," Mary Margaret was the first to say.

Belle was the second person to speak. "Really, I just… I had a nightmare. And Mary Margaret coming home startled me. That's all," she insisted. "Really, it's alright, you don't have to-"she cut herself off as Emma rounded on her, the gun aimed straight at Belle's forehead. Belle's heartbeat quickened considerably. "Whoa, no need for that…" she gave a nervous laugh. "You can just… Just put the gun down and no one gets hurt… This is just a big misunderstanding…" her voice was slow and calming, though her heart was flitting around her chest in panic. She had seen what those could do. Heck, she had _felt_ what those could do. That was something she didn't exactly want to go through again.

"Oh, yeah? Is that what this is?" Emma inquired dangerously. "Are you sure you're not interrogating anyone? I sense something dark when I'm around you, and Mary Margaret does too."

"Now hold on…"

Emma ignored Mary Margaret's interruption, continuing on with her questions that Belle was fumbling frantically to answer. "Are you the real villain here? Pretending to be hurt? Maybe those 'scars' are fake. Maybe they're just makeup. Listen Belle; if that's even your name, I have a superpower that tells me when people are lying. And to be quite honest, you've been lying a lot lately."

Belle winced at the accusations. She could see Mr. Gold moving towards Emma, and she shot him a _look,_ which he caught and held back angrily. "Hang on, slow down…" Belle tried. "I-I didn't do any of that… It was the woman in black, I swear. I just… I just wanted to be in peace for one day… Is that too much to ask!?" her voice gradually rose to a shout. "I'm sorry I've been lying, but my life is jacked up, okay? Why can't you just listen and understand that I've been through Hell and back! Excuse me if I need a few days to sort things out!" she raged, tears flowing out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

"Miss Swan, I will have to thank you greatly for finding my runaway," came a very sophisticated voice. In stepped none other than the Evil Queen, or in this town, Madame Mayor. Mr. Gold narrowed his eyes in pure hatred at the sight of her. "I've been looking all over for her. As you have probably discovered, she is very dangerous," she continued, her regal voice ringing throughout the room.

Emma stared at Regina in shock. "What do you mean? I didn't call you here," she replied incredulously. Around her, Mr. Gold seethed and Mary Margaret placed a hand on Belle's arm, the bookworm locking her gaze with Regina's and trying to hide her fear.

Four guards entered the room. "No, of course you didn't. But as mayor of this town I am concerned about all cases," Regina insisted professionally. Mr. Gold let out a shout and charged at her the best he could, but two of the guards held him back, covering his mouth. Emma had lowered her gun by then. "Interrupt and no mercy shall be shown."

The two remaining guards descended on Belle. Belle screamed and kicked as they wrestled her into the air. She fought as hard as she could, but in the end the two guards came to a conclusion. One of them held her down the best he could while the other took a baton and cracked it on her head. There was one short cry of pain, and then Belle was dead silent.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything seemed to pass by in a blur after that. Two more guards came in to make sure Emma and Mary Margaret didn't make a move as Belle was dragged out of the room, her body limp. Mr. Gold fought the guards even harder but in the end he was pushed to the ground as Regina, Belle, and the others left without another word.

After they were gone, Mr. Gold punched the wall in anger. No one spoke as he sighed and placed his head in his hands. Mary Margaret and Emma exchanged a glance. By then, Emma was feeling terrible for what she had said. She had just first-handedly witnessed that Belle was, in fact, the victim. Belle had been acting suspicious, though.

Mr. Gold turned on Emma in pure ire. "You! This is your fault!" he roared. "You're the reason that she's gone! You judgmental little fiend!" he continued, shouting as loud as he could as Emma and Mary Margaret both gaped in utter shock. "You took _My Belle_ away!"

After that, Emma's defenses were back up. "First of all, she is not _your_ Belle," she retorted. "She is a grown woman and she makes her own decisions. When she's not dragged away, that is. And if I were you, I'd calm down before I broke something and was arrested. Would you like to find yourself behind bars again, Mr. Gold? After you hospitalized Moe French!?" she snapped in reply.

Mary Margaret knew she shouldn't speak up, but she did anyway. "And didn't she say that she didn't want you to control her?" she asked, thinking back to the fight that Belle and Mr. Gold had had just minutes earlier. Mr. Gold shot Mary Margaret a glare that nearly branded her, it was so ireful. "I-I'm just saying…" she added stutteringly.

Mr. Gold switched his gaze between Mary Margaret and Emma furiously. He didn't know who to address first. "I am the only one who knows what she truly wants," he spat, and then retrieved the check and his cane, slamming the door on his way out in a fit of rage. He had had his Belle back. He had felt her in his arms once more. He had tasted her lips again. Now this stupid group of mother-daughter princesses were the cause of him losing her, again, as if twice wasn't enough.

He marched out of the complex and headed towards the library, trying to ignore his leg. Curse this land. It had brought the pain back into his foot. He wished he had thought of that when he created the darned curse in the first place. However, he had been too wrapped up in the thought of seeing Bae again to think of such.

Once Mr. Gold reached the library, he fetched a keychain out of his pocket. The keychain was loaded with dozens of keys to the different places in Storybrooke, all of which he owned. The library was one he'd honestly never been inside, though. It reminded him too much of Belle. He grimaced; even thinking about her brought hollowness to his heart. He couldn't help but wonder what Regina was doing to her. He knew that Belle probably wasn't being treated very well and it pained him to think that she might be starving to death right now. He couldn't feel anger right then, though. No. He was too tired. He was tired of losing every single person in this world or the next that he loved. He would get Belle back. He would.

He searched through his keychain wordlessly, determination on his face. There were a ton of keys on here, but he knew which one was for the library. He found it and felt a wave of triumph wash over him briefly. He inserted the key into the lock and twisted, hearing the satisfied click that the door made.

Once inside, he ignored the clenching of his heart-yes, he had a heart-produced from the memories of when he gave Belle her library back in the Enchanted Forest, before he kicked her out. Kicking her out was one of the worst things he had ever done, right behind letting Bae fall through that portal alone. He tightened his jaw and continued on through the library, towards a certain bookshelf at the wall. Yes, there was a different way to the clock tower, but this hidden entry was the only way for him to get to a certain room.

He ran his fingers gently over the books; these were the ones that he knew Belle loved most. These were her absolute favorites. He uttered a small sigh before pulling the bookshelf away with a heave, trying to be careful not to tip it. He shoved it gently to the side and, panting, faced the wall.

Mr. Gold tapped the wall twice, and a low, quick beep sounded. It was almost inaudible and he would have missed it had he not been listening for it. "Baelfire," he whispered hoarsely. It had been so long since he'd said his son's full first name. With a small groan, a nice little one square foot part of the wall pushed inside, a keypad extending in its place. Mr. Gold used his left hand to type in the password, his right hand resting heaving on his cane. _389161654 205132116._

Through all of his time in Storybrooke, he hadn't once been in the library, nor the room he was about to enter. The wall opened up completely, letting him in. He took a deep breath and then walked into the room, the walls closing shut behind him. Lights flickered on. This place was dank and filled with a horrid feel, the air damp with torment.

He took one more step in and he was bombarded with all of the horrible memories he had ever had. When he designed the curse, he had designed this room specifically. It was supposed to keep him out of his final destination. He grinded his teeth together and continued forwards, bearing through the memories of his papa leaving him, Milah dying at his hands, Milah leaving him, Bae falling through that portal, Belle sobbing, being told Belle was dead…

Finally he reached the staircase on the other side of the room and rushed up the steps as fast as he could, the memories returning to what they truly are-memories, not ghosts. Mr. Gold knew what was in the room waiting for him; he did. But he didn't care. He had to do this. He needed to know who else _knew_. He finished off the many stairs soon enough despite his leg and emotionlessly walked into the new room.

Inside the room he found everything he ever had from his childhood, excluding just a few things. There were some of his old clothes from when he was just a boy, the spinner ladies' spinning wheel, and a couple of toys he used to play with. The room even held some of the cards his papa used to scam people with, but those were hidden.

When Belle's father had taken the teacup, Mr. Gold had resolved to moving that and a bunch of other sentimental items into this hidden room. There were no doors, only the staircase. No one else in the world knew the passwords, though. He even had a password to get out of there.

Before Emma came, he had had no idea that this room was ever built. Either way, he would have had no reason to come in here, even after Emma came and his memories were returned. Except Belle was alive. His sweet, darling Belle who wouldn't hurt a fly was alive, but barely. He clenched his teeth in anger. Yes, Belle was living, but a tortured life is hardly a life at all. Actually, he didn't even know if she was living. He didn't know what Regina was planning.

Mr. Gold made his way over to a small shelf, carrying books. These were his spell-books, of course. He didn't trust them in his shop. He wordlessly moved two of them away from the spot and discovered the box behind him. He smiled a little bit; this might help him feel a tiny bit better.

He took out the box and walked over to a table, tapping the box four times consecutively. It opened with a tiny creak. Inside was her cup, her _chipped_ cup. With shaky hands, Mr. Gold removed the cup and held it to his chest. "Oh, Belle…" he whispered softly. "I will find you, and I will save you… Regina will ail you no more…"

After placing the teacup back on the table, Mr. Gold turned to one of his cabinets placed randomly in the corner, approaching it. It had four drawers, all full. They were labelled. The top drawer was A-F, the second G-L, the third M-R, and the fourth S-Z. He opened the second drawer and searched through it. He muttered to himself as he went. "J… J…" Finally, he found what he was looking for. He retrieved the file and opened it up. "Bingo," he said triumphantly. The cover of the file read _Jefferson._

**~XXX~**

She was so cold. She couldn't stop shivering. Her toes were numb and her fingers felt like icicles. Once she was brought back, she was moved even further belowground and, with no windows or heat, was slowly turning into an ice cube. It was hard for her to move. When she tried, her muscles would scream in protest and her bones would creak with achiness.

Belle had only been in there for three days now. Her heart stressed against her ribcage every single passing moment, thumping faintly in her chest and trying to continue. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out. The blood that dripped steadily from her back and now surrounded her was frosted.

The only bright side to the temperature was it was bound to freeze her reopened wounds eventually, which meant she wouldn't die of blood loss. Right now, though, that didn't seem so bad. Despite being near to becoming a Popsicle, Belle was sweating. A lot. Her fingernails were blue and she had a wracking cough that plagued her.

She knew that she was sick. There was no doubt about it. She thought she heard an Inflictor say something strange that could be a disease. _Pneumonia._ She turned the word over in her mind, contemplating it. She didn't know what it was, but it scared her.

It was December. She saw on Mary Margaret's calendar that it was December, but it wasn't winter yet. Belle didn't know how, but she just knew that winter started on or around December 21. She couldn't tell if that information was from the Enchanted Forest or if she'd heard it somewhere. It honestly didn't matter to her.

She much preferred the cell in the Evil Queen's dungeon that she had occupied in the Enchanted Forest. That one was not as cold and even though she had had physical shackles, it had been much more comfortable.

Belle was locked in a fetal position, her legs drawn to her chest and her arms curled around them, her forehead resting against her knees. She didn't like this position, but it was the warmest she could get, which was still very chilly. A bitter laugh escaped her throat, followed by a hacking cough that did not sound very beautiful at all. She couldn't believe that she was being tossed around like a kicked puppy.

There was nothing she could do about it, though. They had taken everything from her. Her warmth, her spirit, her love, her life… It was gone. All gone. Regina was making her into an empty shell of herself. She had no say in what happened to her. She lifted her head slightly as the door opened with a massive creak, a woman clad in a full-body white suit walking in. The woman had blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and light brown eyes and she looked to be in her mid-twenties.

Belle didn't do anything. She just sat there feebly watching as the woman approached and gave Belle an once-over. The woman reached into her purse and grabbed a clipboard out of it, scribbling something down with the pen attached. "You Belle French?" the woman inquired.

Still, Belle remained silent. She parted her chapped lips slightly, breathing out through her teeth as she just stared back at the woman. The woman waited for another two minutes before leaning closer to Belle. Belle didn't think that she looked too intimidating. "Listen Belle," the woman whispered. "My name is Miss Green, but you can just call me Harvey. I'm not here to hurt you. Now, I can't exactly get you out, but I'll be doing my job. I'm in charge of your medications that the doctors prescribed you. Okay?"

Not a single reaction from Belle. Harvey sighed and sat down next to Belle on the ledge. "Okay, let me get something straight with you. You're my first real patient. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other, so this whole silence isn't exactly going to work. I'm going to need you to trust me. I have no say in what the doctors give you; I'm just here to make sure you're well enough. I do know that one of the pills will be helping that nasty pneumonia I've been hearing about. May I see your fingernails?" she asked a little hesitantly.

Belle's chapped lips formed a small, cracked smile. She could see that Harvey was nervous; she really didn't seem like she meant Belle any harm. Not to mention, belle certainly didn't want to scare her. That's not who she was. Against the screaming of her disused muscles, Belle slowly removed her left hand from around her knees and stiffly held it out in front of Harvey.

Harvey gently lifted Belle's hand and examined the fingernails. They were definitely blue, an unhealthy color and a definite sign of pneumonia. Harvey then placed one hand on Belle's forehead. The girl was burning up. "Oh, you poor dear…" she whispered. A look of defiance and pride crossed over Belle's eyes, but she still said nothing. "Here, I'll be making sure that you are given a proper amount of water and food from now on. When I said I was in charge of your medication, I sort of half-lied. I'm in charge of you in whole, apart from you staying here. So, I can't let you out," she said apologetically. "But, I'll be getting you better clothes and some blankets."

Harvey stood up. "I know Madam Mills doesn't want anyone here to be treated that well but, well, she should have thought of that before putting me in charge. Sorry, I'm rambling. That happens when I'm nervous," she gave an anxious laugh, and Belle smiled again. "Anyway, you will still be tortured…" her eyes softened. "I'm sorry, but I have no control over that… I wish I did. But the medicines will help with the pain, from what I've seen. It will help a lot, actually. Now come on, let's go get you some water and food. God, you look like a twig," Harvey grinned, holding a hand out for Belle.

Belle placed her already extended hand out to Harvey and the woman helped Belle carefully stand up and led her out of the room as slowly as Belle needed. The two gradually walked into a new room, one that was thankfully heated. Belle and Harvey both sat down at a messy table in the middle. There was a desk and a chair and a bookshelf that lined the wall. Music was playing sweetly from a closed laptop on the desk, but Belle didn't pay it any mind at that moment.

Harvey cleared the table of the papers that cluttered it and carried them over to the desk, pushing them into a neat pile. She reached underneath the desk, towards the mini fridge, and returned to Belle with a cold water bottle. "Here. You must be thirsty as hell," she insisted, sliding the water over to Belle.

The younger took the bottle with an appreciative nod, seeming to chug it as much as she could, then shuddering. "Thank you, by the way. For… All of this," Belle was finally able to speak, though her voice cracked.

Harvey just smiled sweetly. "Of course. Here, I'll go get you some food, you stay here. Your meds will be inside of the food so you don't have to worry about that. I promise, they'll make you feel better," she vowed, and then left the room, which was actually her study. She locked the door with the silver key dangling from her keychain.

She walked through the halls with a sigh. Someone joined her and she turned to see who it was. "Rough one?" said the new person, who turned out to just be another nurse, Miss O'Reilly.

Harvey shook her head a little bit as they both walked on towards the mealtime room, a frown on Harvey's face. "You have no idea. You know Jade, have you ever considered that Mayor Mills simply has her hands up our backs?" she suggested, her tone stressed. Jade shot Harvey a strange look, her eyes full of confusion.

"That's a funny theory. What makes you think there's a woman, the woman I work for no less, seeing my bare back?" Jade inquired as they walked, picking up the pace. Harvey gave a small, dry laugh at this. The two of them made a right turn into the mealtime room. "Mealtime, 16," Jade told the chef. Harvey uttered her request as well before turning back to Jade.

"That's not what I mean," Harvey stressed as they waited. "I mean, sometimes it just feels like we're her puppets. We're forced to promise these patients all these realities, and we're forced to act like everything is alright, when it's not. Okay, what I mean is these people are getting tortured. Some daily, some weekly, and some monthly. Our 'boss', the mayor, makes us go ahead and give them false hope. They're not even going to help with the sicknesses they cause. And for what purpose?"

Jade inhaled quickly and then let her breath out in a long exhale. "False hope, you said. Madam Mayor wants them to have false hope. She wants them to think that no one cares for them or remembers them. We have to do what she wants. It doesn't matter what, we signed the contracts. We didn't read the fine print. This is a death deal, Harvey. If we back out, she has all the rights to kill us. We may be like her own personal slaves, but that's our own faults. There's no getting out of it."

**~XXX~**

Mary Margaret and Emma ate their dinner in silence. It had been a few days since Belle was taken again and neither one of them had said a word about her. Usually they acted as if Belle had never come, but now there was disappointment in the air. Emma had come home from work recently to report that she could find no information whatsoever of the missing girl and that she hadn't found any proof that there even was an asylum.

Mary Margaret had washed the bed sheets around three times. There was not a drop of crimson to be seen. Emma and Mary Margaret were back to taking turns on who slept on the bed and who slept on the couch. The whole house had been cleaned once again, swept and mopped and scrubbed. It was December 7th. Mary Margaret knew that her students were going to have a Christmas break from the 15th of December to January 8th.

She wasn't quite sure how she was going to occupy her time from then on. It was every year that she came to this dilemma. She usually occupied her time with work and grading the kids' papers, but she was always caught up. She wasn't sure what she would do without that. Every single year she was bored for most of the span of Christmas break. The other part was spending Christmas with Ruby and Granny, since she had no family here in Storybrooke.

This time, though, she'd bring Emma to spend Christmas with Ruby and Granny. She hadn't told Emma of the plans yet, though. She would eventually. Mary Margaret stood up and carried her empty plate over to the sink, washing it off; they'd had ravioli. "Hey Emma," she decided to tell her now. Emma grunted in reply, obviously too involved with her food to speak. "I like to spend Christmas with Granny and Ruby. I was wondering if you'd be interested with joining us this time."

This broke Emma out of her food-induced trance. She lifted her head and turned to look at Mary Margaret. "I would, but I kind of promised Henry I'd come and drop off his present first thing in the morning. Maybe I can come after that?" she suggested. Mary Margaret nodded with a smile on her face.

Silence befell them for once again before Emma threw her hands down in frustration and left the table, her mind worked to its end. Mary Margaret sighed and washed Emma's plate before following her into the study. Emma was sitting on the chair with her face in her hands. Mary Margaret took Emma's hands away and lifted her chin so the sheriff was looking at Mary Margaret.

"Listen Emma, I know you're stressing a lot about Belle and it's not healthy for you. I worry for her too and I want her to be okay even though she seems sort of off. You need to stop beating yourself up about this and just take a breather. I don't want you to have a breakdown or something, okay?"

Emma made an irritated noise, staring at Mary Margaret with regret on her face. "It's my fault that she's gone, though. It's my fault that she's hurt. We can't just go on pretending that everything is okay when god knows what is happening to her. I got her into that mess so I have to get her out… It's like I'm obligated," she sounded utterly defeated.

There was a pause before Mary Margaret responded. "It wasn't your fault. It was crazy and I'm the one that screamed for no big deal. I was just scared and you were just doing your job. But it's okay, we can find her," Mary Margaret reassured her younger friend.

Emma shot Mary Margaret a _look._ "Stop trying that. It's not going to work," she hesitated before continuing. "This asylum place that she was held… I'm completely sure it's not aboveground. It's definitely a basement. The question is, the basement of which building…" she wondered aloud.

**~XXX~**

Regina smiled as she looked in through the one-way window in the cell door. The window was invisible to the prisoner, so that Belle had no idea that she was being watched. Regina was glad that she had her pawn back. Apparently torture had not been enough. Regina would have to continue. She cursed this land for letting Rumplestiltskin know she was alive. Gold was never supposed to find out.

But now he knew. He would be coming to get her. He's the Dark One. Therefore, he is clever, and he has resources. Regina continued to watch Belle. She would return the little _Beauty_ to her Beast. Regina rolled her eyes. The prisoner's parents must have been pretty conceited to name their daughter a translation for beauty. She wasn't even that beautiful.

Regina snapped her fingers. It was time to start. "Rivers, time to go. Treatment time," she snapped impatiently. The Inflictor rushed to her side immediately. "You have the electrodes?" she confirmed, the white-clad guard nodding and holding up the wires that were attached to the machine on wheels that another Inflictor was pushing. "We're going to need a chair."

A final Inflictor approached with a cold metal chair in hand. Regina smirked and fixed her hair before entering the room. There was a clicking sound as her heels smacked the floor of the stone.

Belle lifted her head slightly to stare at Regina. Regina gave a snort of amusement at the feeble position the girl was in. How pathetic. Inflictor #3 placed the chair in the middle of the room as the other two set up the machine and turned it on. The third Inflictor walked over to Belle and grabbed her, lifting her up. She squirmed in his grasp, the sound of her muscles flexing after so long sounding throughout the cell.

Eventually, though, Belle found herself in the chair with cuffs tight on her arms and legs. She wriggled as much as she could, glaring at everyone in that room. Another metal strap was tightened over her stomach so much that, despite her thinness, she was having trouble breathing steadily.

One of the other guards approached with the electrodes, placing them on the appropriate places: her temple, neck, and arms. Belle could do nothing but sit and glower at him. Regina walked in front of her with a perfect smile on her face. The two locked gazes, Regina's eyes portraying her confidence in what was about to take place and Belle's eyes portraying pure, burning loathing.

Regina cocked her head to the side slightly. "What? I thought we were old friends." No reply. "Now," Regina continued, dropping her grin. "Say that you are worthless," she demanded. Belle shot her a strange look before her pride clouded her eyes.

"No," Belle replied simply. The mayor nodded to one of her guards and the guard pressed a button on the machine and Belle immediately screamed as an electric current ran through her body from her head down to her neck and arms, then exploring other parts of her body. She wriggled, the chair moving a little bit.

Regina's smirk returned, this time bigger. She had been exploring ways to torture the girl, but she figured this electroconvulsive therapy would be the most damaging to her enemy. "Say it," she insisted. The little prisoner refused again, her eyes wide and alert. The girl was shocked again. This went on for about five more minutes, with Regina demanding that Belle say it and the guards shocking her when she refused. "Turn it up," Regina snapped to the Inflictors and they did. "Say it," Regina snarled at the pawn.

Belle felt like every part of her was vibrating. There were drops streaming out of her eyes and down her cheeks from being electrocuted several times. She was losing control and she tried to grasp at it as much as she could, trying to keep her befuddled brain in order. "N-no…" she stuttered, her voice low.

This time, the shock was much greater. Belle shrieked in pure pain as it felt as if every single part of her was exploding. Her eyes were glazed over with fresh tears, red surrounding the blue irises. Regina screeched her orders again, but this time Belle was too lost. Her neck was bent slightly, her head hanging as she gasped in horror. "I'm worthless," she whispered.

Regina's face was lit up with a sly smile. "Yes, that's it. Good girl. You're worthless. Miss Green has never cared for you. Mary Margaret and Emma have never cared for you. Jefferson has never cared for you. You're worthless and nobody has ever loved you. _He_ has never loved you. You are nothing but a useless pawn," she fed the lines. Belle repeated them mindlessly; her brain too messed up at that moment to do much else.

Belle's arms and legs were jerking uncontrollably, kept down by the cuffs. "I am nothing. Nobody has ever loved me. Nobody can love me. I am a useless pawn," Belle muttered, simply doing exactly what Regina wanted her to. The electroconvulsive therapy had brought a cloud over Belle's mind, so that the girl couldn't really think for herself anymore. She was like a puppet, a pet being given commands.

This continued for two full hours, and once it was done, Belle was mumbling the words repeatedly to herself. The Inflictors unstrapped her and her limbs continued to jerk occasionally. They unhooked her from the electrodes and kicked Belle off of the chair, exiting the room with the equipment.

Regina smiled and bent down next to Belle, who was staring at the ground and rocking slightly, curled but still sitting upright. Regina lifted Belle's chin with one finger so that the prisoner was eye-to-eye with the mayor. "It's about time you see it my way," the latter said triumphantly, then strode out of the room while laughing cruelly and locking the door behind her.

Belle stayed in that position for a long while. She couldn't think anything except for those words. She was convinced. She was convinced that they were true. She wished that she was lovable, that there was someone out there that cared. But by now, she knew that there wasn't. She coughed the cold returning to her body as the adrenaline left.

She shivered and squeezed her eyes shut in pain. It was too much for her. The electricity seemed to still hide in her beaten back, the agony searing brighter than ever. Belle weakly dragged herself over to a corner and snuggled up in it as much as she could. She was worthless. She didn't deserve to be here. She should have been in a worse place, a place of the forgotten. A place for people like her.

Belle stood up on shaky legs and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before a wracking cough overtook her and she found herself doubled over in pure sickness. Finally, once it had passed, she stood up straight and slammed her back against the wall with a screech. She slid to the floor and then repeated her task three more times. Over and over and over, the searing within her backside became more intense. Eventually, the reopening of her wounds combined with the torture of her thoughts knocked her out completely. She fell to the floor and knocked her already bruised head on the stone.

When she awoke a good time later, Harvey was in her room. The nurse had propped Belle up on the ledge and was checking her pulse. Belle didn't recognize her at first, though, and screamed when she saw her. Harvey jumped about a foot before shushing Belle and calming her down. Belle recognized her quickly, though, and settled before anyone got hurt.

Harvey placed one hand on Belle's forehead, but the girl pushed her away. "What's wrong Belle? Did Madam Mayor come in and do her treatment?" she inquired, concern on her face. Belle just drew her legs up to her chest and bit her lip.

Harvey lifted a glass of water she had brought in to Belle's lips and Belle took it, drinking it on her own. Harvey stared at the prisoner, looking confused. Eventually Belle began to squirm under her gaze. "Stop that. Stop looking at me like that," she protested. Harvey just seemed even more bewildered, and opened her mouth to reply before Belle cut her off. "You can leave now. Stop worrying. I know you're just pretending."

"What are you talking about? I am worried. I'm not pretending," Harvey insisted, but Belle shook her head slowly with pain on her beautiful face. "I do care about you, Belle. I want you to know that."

"No. You don't," Belle replied stubbornly. "Now, leave. Please. I want to be alone." She stared at a wall, not paying any attention as Harvey sighed and grabbed the glass of water.

Harvey hesitated before leaving. "Your food is on the ledge, just about two feet to your right," she informed the girl before exiting, though Belle paid her words no mind. Belle just continued to stare at the wall, trying to think through what had happened earlier. All she knew was that she was useless and nobody cared. At least, she thought she knew that. It seemed unlikely to her that so many people would lie, but it hurt whenever she thought back on it.

Belle twiddled her fingers for a few minutes, her gaze still locked on the wall. The sweet aroma of food hit her nose, even though she knew that it wouldn't be completely fresh. The smell was tempting, haunting her mind and she was having trouble resisting it. She shouldn't eat yet. It was too early. She clenched and unclenched her jaw. She wished things were simpler than this.

She wasn't completely sure what the woman in black and the Inflictors had quite done to her earlier, but she knew that her mind was too foggy to think about it. Her left arm twitched, and then her right arm. All four of her limbs continued to jerk occasionally, though she had no control over it. At that moment, she didn't really care. She was too tired to care. She just wanted sleep.

Belle rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes, but she came to a dilemma. It was too quiet to sleep. Vaguely she remembered hearing music in Harvey's study. She began to hum a tune that she remembered, but it wasn't working. She decided she would start on the chorus. That was the only part she knew right now. "I won't go…" she whispered, not quite enough to be singing. "I can't do it on my own… If this ain't love, then what is…? I'm willing to take the risk…"

Gradually the pieces of the song came back to Belle, but she still couldn't conjure up the beginning. "Will he… Will he still remember me? Will he still love me even when he's free? Or will he go back to the place where he would choose the poison over me?" her words softened slowly. She was hardly paying attention to the words she was speaking. Her mind was on rest. That was all she wanted.

She had no idea how long she had been murmuring the lyrics before her hushed voice dropped into nonexistence and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

**~XXX~**

Mr. Gold sat down in the crimson velvet chair; right across from the person he had been researching for a couple of days now. There was a small glass table in between them. This was Mr. Gold's living room, in his salmon Victorian. "I will have to thank you greatly for meeting me. Jefferson. And on such short notice."

Jefferson gave a small smirk. He had been expecting this, to be honest. He had been expecting the Dark One to come groveling at his feet, thanking him oh-so-much for saving his beloved. Well, he didn't expect that much, but he expected a favor. "Of course. It was the polite thing to do, Mr. Gold," Jefferson replied slyly.

Suddenly the grin on Mr. Gold's face switched to a hard frown. "Let's cut the act, dearie. I know what's different about this town. You know what's different about this town. Let's agree not to lie to each other for now," he suggested, though it sounded more like a demand.

Jefferson sobered as well. He had known all along that Mr. Gold remembered. The man's actions had altered ever so slightly ever since Emma came. That is one of the reasons Jefferson's interest in the woman was sparked. That and she was the savior. "Very well," he agreed. "I suppose you called me here to talk about Belle?"

Mr. Gold's jaw tightened at her name, keeping his eyes clear of any emotions. "Yes. Since you both had the same curse, to remember, I figured you might have some information," he responded formally, leaving out the part that he was the reason Belle's curse was to remember. He leaned closer. "What do you know of her?" he inquired, his tone hard.

Jefferson took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shifting in the chair. "Now, that's not a very nice way to ask, now is it, Rumplestiltskin? I thought after being reduced to a crippled menace rather than a magical one, you'd be a little nicer," he avoided.

His dodging just frustrated Mr. Gold, who began to tap his foot impatiently. At that moment he really wished he had his magic so he could force the hatter to tell the truth. "I am going to ask you again. What do you know of Belle French? And if you don't answer, dearie, you're certainly going to live to regret it," he snarled and lifted his cane. He extended his arm so that his cane was right on Jefferson's throat.

A strangled sound emanated from Jefferson, a flash of panic crossing his eyes briefly before disappearing. Mr. Gold relaxed his cane slightly so that Jefferson could talk. "She was in the asylum, for 28 years, undergoing extreme and cruel torture. Her file listed her as association with sorcery, said that she had a murderous spirit. I knew that wasn't true and that you and she were once close. I rescued her and brought her to Snow White, told that princess to bring the girl to you when she could function on her own. That's all," he insisted when Mr. Gold tightened his grip on the cane.

Mr. Gold clenched his jaw. "Oh, yeah? That's all?" he hissed irefully. Jefferson nodded. "Then I guess that Snow White forgot to inform you that your good friend Regina has got Belle in her grasps again. She marched right in with her weak little guards and took her. Trust me dearie, if I could have stopped it, I would have. Now if you had brought her to me, instead of to the team of mother-daughter princesses, she wouldn't be in this mess."

Jefferson's eyes hardened. "I made a mistake. I didn't want you to see her in that state because I knew that you would be too caught up with revenge to actually take care of her, while Mary Margaret still has the motherly nature of Snow White. Come on, you don't want to kill me. Two people with a common goal can do a lot, but two people with a common enemy can do much, much more. You and I, Rumplestiltskin, we have both a common goal, to get the girl out of the grasp of Regina, our common enemy," he reasoned.

There was a pause as Mr. Gold considered this. "Are you suggesting, hatter, that you and I work together?" he inquired, skepticism etched onto his face.

Jefferson gave a small shrug. "After all, I am the only compliant person in this town that knows where the asylum is. You kind of need that information, now don't you?"

**~XXX~**

Emma sighed. It was time to get this in order. She didn't know how to find Belle. She didn't know where the stupid asylum was or how to get to it and she certainly didn't know if she could find out on her own. No, she needed help. One thing she did know was exactly what type of help she needed. She usually didn't like to admit needing it, but this time another person's life was at stake. That was more important than her pride.

She stood in front of Granny's Diner, peeking inside to make sure that Ruby was in there. Emma actually wanted Jefferson, but in light of recent events she decided that Ruby would come in handier with persuasion than she ever would.

Emma entered the restaurant, biting her lower lip as she sat down in front of the counter on one of the stools. Ruby walked over to her. "Hot cocoa with cinnamon," Emma ordered. "Oh, and I have to talk to you…" she added, a little more quietly though. Ruby shot her a strange look and opened her scarlet lips, but Emma interrupted. "Privately. We can't let anyone hear us yet," she continued.

Ruby was unsure, but nodded in compliance. "Uh, yeah. I've got my break in twenty minutes, if it can wait that long," she replied a little cautiously. Emma tightened her jaw but nodded. A grin lit Ruby's face. "It won't be long, I promise. I'll go get your cocoa," she said before cheerfully walking to the hot chocolate machine with a bounce in her step.

Emma certainly had no doubt in her mind that Ruby could do what Emma needed her to. The waitress was much better with guys than anyone else as far as Emma knew. She had been there for almost two months and had met most of the residents, so she was pretty sure she was safe to assume that despite all of the other good-looking females in the town, Ruby was the one and only real vixen.

The sheriff slapped some dollars on the counter as her beverage was served, the cinnamon tinting the color ever so slightly. "Thanks," Emma expressed her gratitude shortly before taking a sip. The flavor flooded her mouth, the pinch of cinnamon tasting like heaven exploded.

She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd actually stopped for a hot cocoa. Too long, she decided. She was just way too worked up about this whole Belle and Regina situation, plus the thing with Kathryn being missing and all. It was nice to just slow things down for a little while; to take a break, however small.

The next twenty minutes passed by rather swiftly as Emma watched Ruby work. Soon enough, the two of them were walking along the docks, checking to be sure that no one was listening in.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Emma pulled a folded piece of paper from her red leather jacket, opening it and showing it to Ruby. It was a drawn picture of Belle, having been sketched at first by Emma, Mary Margaret, and Henry before that sketch was taken to a professional who made it into the end result, the one in Emma's hands. "Have you seen this girl before?" Emma inquired.

Ruby seemed confused, but shook her head anyway. "No, I haven't. That's odd. I thought I knew everyone in this town. Granny's is pretty popular," she mused silently, feeling proud of her grandmother for starting such a successful business. "Who is she?" Ruby asked the sheriff. They had stopped walking by already.

"Her name is Belle," Emma began. "She was brought to Mary Margaret and me for help by Jefferson. She was apparently kept in a mental asylum for the last twenty-eight years undergoing extreme torture and unbearable pain. She was fed very little and was barely alive at all when she came to live with us."

"Mental asylum…" Ruby muttered under her breath as she studied the picture closer.

Emma nodded. "Yeah. I'm not sure where it is. I did a little inspection and her punishment was very cruel. She doesn't seem to be mentally ill in any way, though I didn't get a chance to have Archie look at her. The day after she was brought to us, Mary Margaret caught her with Mr. Gold. A mess occurred and the bottom line is Regina has her back in her grasps. She had said that Belle was very dangerous, but I don't believe it in the slightest," she reported.

Ruby's gaze had grown more troubled through all of it. She couldn't help but wonder if the girl was still functioning. Emma had made it seemed like this poor woman had been on her deathbed. "So… Where do I play into all of this?" Ruby asked, glancing up at Emma.

A sigh emanated from Emma as she took the picture back and folded it up again, slipping it back into her jacket. "I need you to work your charm on Jefferson. I've met him before and I know that he certainly wouldn't give up the information about where the asylum is willingly. He'd want something else in return. But I was thinking maybe you could try something?"

Ruby frowned a tiny bit. "You mean you want me to seduce him?"

Emma nodded. "If you want to think of it that way, then yes. I want you to seduce him. Listen, her life is at stake. She's not that bad; she's actually really sweet and she wouldn't harm a fly. I know I'm making you sound dirty but if you won't do this for me, than do it for her," Emma pleaded.

There was a slight pause in the conversation as Ruby thought about what Emma had said. She could work her magic on Jefferson, and somehow she could tell that the girl wasn't all that bad. Slowly, she began to nod. "And what's her name again?"

"Her name is Belle."

**~XXX~**

Harvey sighed, leaning against the wall. She had just visited Belle again, and was now right outside her room, trying to contemplate what to do next. Whatever the mayor was doing to the girl, it was working. Twenty-eight years in an asylum can really bring a person down. Harvey didn't like what was happening to Belle, but there was nothing she could do about it.

In all reality, Harvey was in charge of Belle, but not what was done to her. That was completely up to Madam Mills. "Speak of the devil…" the nurse muttered to herself as Regina approached. The mayor didn't pay Harvey a second glance as she entered the room with around 12 guards behind her, shutting the door and locking it. Harvey peered in through the window, knowing that she wasn't supposed to but feeling rebellious.

Inside, Regina stopped to let her Inflictors extract the shackles and chains from the bags they were carrying. Then the eight that were carrying heavy bricks-two people per brick-set two down on the ledge next to Belle and the others on the ground. The girl didn't notice. She was staring at the wall and whispering something. "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away…" she would murmur in a singsong voice, too quiet to hear if you weren't listening for it. "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day…"

Regina made a disgusted face at the state that Belle was in. It was pathetic. When one of her Inflictors moved towards the girl and grabbed her, she screamed in shock, as if she hadn't known they were there. She was silent then, broken out of her trance. She was sat down in the middle of the ledge rather than near the edge, between two bricks.

A guard bearing shackles walked to her and attached the chains to the bricks before enclosing Belle's hands in the shackles. He bent down and did the same with her bare feet and the other weights. They weighed around three hundred pounds each; Belle would certainly not be going anywhere.

Regina grinned. "Time for a new tactic. Remember, _dearie,_ you deserve this," she snarled before nodding at her guards. Six out of the twelve Inflictors took batons out of their belts and surrounded Belle. She just watched them curiously, but then gasped in pain as the first baton descended on her shoulder with a terrible _crack!_ That could be heard even by Harvey.

The other Inflictors joined in and soon Belle was crumbling under the ferocious hits. The batons were falling everywhere: her arms, legs, stomach, chest, and head. It was hard for her to move with the weights, though. She was wriggling the best she could, but it wasn't enough. The sticks were falling, breaking her skin and sometimes bones. If she was lucky, there would be a blow that would merely bruise her skin. More than likely, though, the impact was rough enough. The experience was excruciating and Belle's screeches could be heard through walls.

Regina just stared through all of it, pursing her lips as she waited for them to finish. She had tried to take the girl's heart before, in the Enchanted Forest. It didn't work. The love of her and the Dark One had been too strong, too present, and all in all too magical. Regina didn't have her magic here. She couldn't take Belle's heart, however much she wanted to.

The mayor had to admit that she was enjoying watching the torture. The girl had been far too annoying for far too long. She wouldn't kill her. No. Belle was a valuable pawn to Regina. As long as she had the princess and Rumplestiltskin didn't, Belle was of use. But Regina was allowed to do whatever she wanted to do to the girl. If she wanted to starve her, she could. If she wanted to torment her, she could. If she even wanted to overdose her on drugs, she could. She wouldn't do that last one, though. The medicine was too valuable.

After a short while, Belle couldn't shriek anymore. Her voice couldn't do it. She was reduced to just sobbing pathetically. "Please, stop…" she whispered, but the Inflictors only listened to Regina. Regina frowned at all of the marks that covered the girl; the blood dripping down her face, arms, torso, and legs as well as the sure breaks in her bones, and decided that if they continued, Belle would likely die.

"That's enough." Regina's voice was sharp. The Inflictors nodded and removed the shackles, putting their equipment away loyally. Regina then strutted out of the room confidently with her guards following. Harvey had jumped out of the way just in time, but now ran inside with tears on her face, provoked from what she had just witnessed.

Harvey rushed to Belle's side. "Oh, my god! You poor girl! Are you okay!?" she gasped. Belle was still in the position that she was in when the torturers had left, but this time she stared down at her hands with a miserable look on her face. "Belle, please answer me. Please don't go off in another one of those traits," she pleaded, placing her hand on Belle's hands.

Belle jerked, biting back a short cry of pain at the movement. "Get off of me…" she muttered, leaning her head back against the wall. Her entire body ached and stung and she shook like a leaf. She had purplish black bruises and cuts all over and she had to shut her eyes tightly for a few seconds to try and block it all out. It didn't work. "I deserved it," she insisted.

Harvey shot Belle a surprised look. "Come on Belle, you can't actually believe what she was saying… Do you?" she inquired disbelievingly, partly wishing that she had not just witnessed what she had. "Please tell me you don't believe it…"

Belle just took a deep breath and let it out slowly, keeping her gaze on the ceiling. Her trembling had gone down slightly, but she was still wary. She shook her head slightly. "I don't know what to believe anymore…" was all she uttered. Harvey waited for her to continue, but she didn't. All Belle did was stare at the ceiling and try to control herself.

She did get tortured before the Rescue, but never this much and certainly never this frequently. Harvey looked uncertain. "Belle, you can't just act like this never happened. You can't just act like the last ten minutes didn't exist," her voice was concerned, which irked Belle a little bit.

However, Belle ignored her irritation and instead offered the nurse a simply shrug. "Yes I can. And I will. I got these injuries from my clumsiness. There. Nothing happened. Now could you please stop worrying? It's getting a little annoying… Whatever did happen, it happened because I deserved it. I'm not worthy of your care."

Something inside of Belle was telling her that the words that she was saying were wrong, but her brain was still too muddled from the electroconvulsive therapy to grasp ahold of that thought. Harvey opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it and stood up with a pained look on her face. She left the room without another word, locking the door.

Belle kept her eyes on the door for at least fifteen more minutes as if she was expecting something to happen. She finally broke her gaze away and stared down at her wounds. She knew she had broken at least three bones, and definitely something was wrong with her shoulder. She had stopped quivering, though. The shock was done and gone. Now all that was left was the aftermath.

The aftermath was always the worst part, because that was always the part that gave Belle the most time to think. Once again, the door opened. "It seems I'm getting many visitors today…" Belle mumbled to herself, but looked up to see who it was nonetheless. It definitely wasn't an Inflictor. No. This man was dressed in white and he had sandy hair atop his head, complimenting his blue eyes.

"Belle, is it? I'm Dr. Whale, and I will be checking your injuries as far as physically," he told her, scribbling something onto a clipboard before making his way over to her and crouching down, not hesitating to place two fingers on her neck. "Your pulse is low," he commented. Belle sat as still as she could while Dr. Whale inspected her head, arms, torso, and legs.

He made a few sympathetic grunts here in there. At least Belle thought they were sympathetic. She would have demanded he stopped feeling sorry for her but she didn't want to interrupt. She actually was interested in all that Regina and her brutes had done to her. It would help her place some of the blame on why she was feeling pain.

Dr. Whale's face contorted with focus as he took a look at Belle's right shoulder. "Your shoulder is dislocated," he informed her. "This may sting a bit." His warning was so brief that Belle hardly had time to contemplate it before an immense pain reverberated through her shoulder. She gasped, tears pricking at her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"There. That's a good girl," Dr. Whale muttered, but she wasn't paying his words any mind. He continued to tenderly finger her arms and legs, being more careful around her chest area. "From what I can tell so far, since I'm not permitted to use an X-Ray on you, you have broken one bone in your left wrist, two bones in your left ring finger, and one bone in your right thumb, as well as you've fractured one bone in your right wrist; I think it's your ulna but I can't quite tell. Your legs took the least amount of damage, scraping by with mostly bruises. Your head seems fine, and you don't have a concussion. Your sternum is damaged, but I think it's just bruising."

Belle nodded, even though she only understood three-fourths of what the doctor was saying. Every place he was describing did hurt a hell of a lot more than the others, and it felt like every word he said was another dagger into her heart. If anyone she truly knew did come and try and get her out again… She would be doomed. She wouldn't want anyone to see her in this state. Especially not Rumplestiltskin. "H-how long will it take to heal…?" she dared ask the question.

Dr. Whale thought about it before answering. "At least eight weeks for it all to heal. Listen, I can't prescribe you to anything as of right now but in at least two weeks you will be on full meds," he stood up. "You know, you're pretty strong and brave. In all my years as a doctor, I have never seen someone receive as many worrisome injuries that you did and not be writhing on the floor in agony." And with that, he left.

Belle was still thinking about his words long after he had gone.

**A/N: I will have to thank you all greatly for following and reviewing; I honestly was not expecting anyone to like this after how cruel I have been xD. I'm afraid it got worse with this chapter, but I needed something****to fill empty space ;-;. I will have to deeply apologize for this chapter... I love Belle, I do, she's my favorite character, but I have a tendency to write darkly o-o. I am sorry for the grammatical errors that are hidden; I didn't have time to read through it real quickly. Either way, I really am just so grateful to you all for enjoying my writing, and sorry again o.o.**


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Gold clenched his jaw in frustration as he watched the sheriff discussing with that pesky waitress, Ruby. Jefferson was sitting at a bench not far. Mr. Gold was irritated that his new ally refused to tell him where Belle was until it was 'the perfect day'. Mr. Gold had to get to Belle before Miss Swan. Quite frankly, he didn't trust the savior and the schoolteacher with his Brave Little Belle.

The two had already let Jefferson and Mr. Gold down once before. He couldn't risk that happening again. He would be with Belle no matter the cost. He wouldn't let anyone get in the way. Jefferson was going to help him and quite obviously Mr. Gold couldn't kill the man while he still held the vital information about Belle's whereabouts.

Still, the wait was making Mr. Gold very vexed. Couldn't they just take her back by brute force? Why did they have to wait for some perfect day? Every moment knowing Belle was being tortured was like a dagger into Mr. Gold's chest. She was one of his very few weaknesses, aside from his dagger and Bae. He couldn't let anything happen to her.

He truly wished that he knew where she was. He could manipulate Regina. He could-wait a second… Maybe, just maybe, he didn't need Jefferson. Maybe he could simply demand that Regina let Belle go. A grin spread on his face as his thoughts kept rolling. All he had to say was _please._

**~XXX~**

Belle watched the wall as if it could actually move, waiting and hoping for something to happen. Regina had given her the electroconvulsive therapy again, and Belle refused to touch her dinner. She didn't deserve it. Why couldn't people get it into their heads that she just wasn't worth it? She tightened her jaw in a small burst of anger before she relaxed once more. No, it wasn't worth getting upset over. They were wrong. That's all that mattered.

Today was the electroconvulsive therapy. Yesterday was the baton treatment. The day before was the electroconvulsive therapy again. Belle was beginning to see a pattern. Tomorrow would be the batons again. Belle shivered as she thought about that one. Her sickness had gone away; they'd at least given her meds for that, since they refused to do anything about the pain. It was still cold, but she couldn't change that.

Her whole body seemed to throb with agony, yet she made no move to try and ease her. She knew that there would be no escape. She couldn't get rid of the pain; she knew that. She just sat in the corner of the room with her head against the wall. She wished she knew more music, but of course she wouldn't dare ask. She wasn't worth the trouble.

She could hardly move. It hurt too much. She had bruises, scrapes, and scratches slathering her skin, as well as the injuries on her back hadn't quite healed yet. Her shoulder, arms, and hands ached as did her chest. She didn't care; she didn't want pity. She'd done this to herself. If she hadn't let herself get caught, then maybe someone would care for her. There was nothing she could really do except stare at the wall and hope to be taken away, even though she didn't even deserve this.

She heard her door creak open and sighed, expecting Harvey or Inflictors. Instead, the woman who came to a stop right in front of her was the one and only Regina Mills. Belle lifted her head slightly to meet her gaze, forcing the fear out of her eyes. For once, Regina had come alone. There was a question mark on Belle's face. She wouldn't be the one to fill the silence.

"Come on, dear, you're coming with me," the mayor's voice was gentle for the first time in a long while. "You're going somewhere warmer. I promise you won't be so cold," she was saying soothingly.

Belle stared at Regina skeptically but grunted as she pushed herself off of the ledge, sending her feet towards the ground just in time before she landed wrong, a small gasp escaped her lips as pain shot through her body but she stood up straight on wobbly legs, looking towards the mayor. "Where?"

A smile spread across Regina's lips. "Somewhere safe," she answered, and took Belle's arm, helping the girl out of the room all while thinking about how she should not have to do this. She was above this. She couldn't reveal the secret of where her asylum was, though. One person already knew, for Belle would not have been able to get out the first time if no one knew.

Regina led Belle slowly to the main room, up two flights of stairs, having to stop every ten or twenty seconds to keep the girl upright. It was annoying Regina, but she kept her irritation under control. In the main room were wheelchairs, crutches, and one cage. Regina, predictably, brought Belle to the cage, which was open. "Get in." her tone was cold again.

Belle stared at the mayor in astonishment. "I-in the cage?" her voice shook. A stern nod from Regina told Belle that she wasn't kidding. The cage was medium-sized and would hardly fit a Great Dane, much less a person. Belle hadn't been eating much, but she'd be beyond cramped in there.

Her hesitation finally brought Regina to her breaking point. "Get in or my guards will throw you in there," she snapped, glaring at the prisoner. Belle flinched and crouched down to the best of her ability, biting her lower lip as she crawled into the cage and tried to ignore her pain as she shifted into the most comfortable position available.

Regina clapped her hands together. "Perfect," she commented as she closed the cage and retrieved a lock and key from her pocket, locking the cage so that the girl would never be able to get out. Regina leaned low to be face-to-face with Belle. "You're exactly where you belong, you useless pet."

Two Inflictors rushed into the room with Harvey at their side. The nurse bit back her shock at seeing Belle in the cage, letting her ire slowly radiate from her being. "What did you want me for, Madam Mayor?" she asked through gritted teeth. Belle did NOT deserve to be treated like this, no matter what the girl or the mayor would say.

"Miss Green, yes, you're going to be in charge of watching Belle and making sure she doesn't escape. We're going to be heading to my office with her and you. Both of you will be placed in another room and, well, you know the consequence if you let her out," Regina replied with an evil grin.

Harvey nodded once, a flash of pain crossing her eyes before it was gone. One of the Inflictors lifted the cage easily while the other spread a blanket over top to keep anyone from seeing what they had. Belle moved restlessly, making the first guard wobble slightly. Regina smacked the cage and there was a short shriek of agony before Belle was quiet and still.

The group of four (five if you count Belle) headed up the stairs and out of the hospital, ignoring any glances cats their way. Outside there was a pickup truck instead of Regina's usual sleek black car. The guards secured Belle's cage in the back of the truck and ordered Harvey to join her back there and make sure the cage didn't fall off.

Harvey complied with unspoken anger and once they were situated, the car began to move. Belle couldn't see Harvey through the blanket, just her silhouette. After just two minutes of driving, Harvey lifted part of the cloth up so that she and Belle could see each other. They both knew that there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

Belle placed her hand against the bars. She knew that Harvey didn't actually think much of her or like her, but at that point Belle was willing to take any comfort, even fake. Harvey took her own hand and set it on the outside of the cage, right on the other side of Belle's. The nurse leaned her head closer. "It's going to be okay," she promised, even though she knew she couldn't guarantee that. The misery on Belle's face had just been too much for Harvey to take. No one should ever have to go through what Belle had gone through in her time. She would not stand for it.

No more words were exchanged as Belle pressed her forehead to the bars, trying to ignore the thoughts of how she was really nothing more than exactly what Regina said. Unconsciously, she began to hum a tune. Harvey didn't mind. If it made Belle feel better, then Harvey was all for it.

They remained like that for around five more minutes until the car slowed to a stop right by the mayor's office. Everyone emptied out from inside and the Inflictors opened the latch in the back of the truck, sliding Belle out first before letting Harvey off. One Inflictor carried the cage, which was fully covered again, all the way into the building, following the mayor herself.

Harvey was in back with the other guard, and all of them made their way inside. Instead of going straight to Regina's study, they took a detour and ended up in a completely empty black and white room. The mayor and one of the guards left while the other Inflictor set the cage down in the middle of the room and handed the key to Harvey. "Don't let her escape," he demanded gruffly before exiting the room and locking the door, following his boss.

A silence overcame the room as Belle moved restlessly in the cage, agony radiating from her wounds. She didn't care. She normally wasn't one to feel very claustrophobic, but at this point she was desperate to get out of there. Finally, Harvey moved towards her with the key. "No!" Belle refused. "I can't let you lose your life over this. I'll… I'll just have to get used to it…" she insisted, forcing herself to calm down and be still.

Harvey hesitated before sighing and returning to her chair on the other side of the room. "I wish it didn't have to be like this. I want to let you out so badly; no one deserves to be stuffed into some small cage," she remarked defiantly.

Belle just shook her head. "I don't want you pretending to care anymore. I know you say you're not pretending, but I can't tell what's right from what's wrong so I'd prefer if you'd not argue it or else I might become too muddled," she reasoned pointedly. Harvey opened her mouth, but then closed it again when no words came out. "I'm sorry," Belle apologized.

There was a pregnant pause before Harvey found the words she was looking for. "You don't have to be sorry," she answered. "I'm the one to apologize. I know you're going through a rough time right now and I respect that. I'm sorry. It's just… I want to get you out of here. I want for you to be able to go where you want and do what you want without having someone breathing down your back with a torture device in hand…" she rambled slightly.

Belle nodded along, but her attention was elsewhere. She couldn't help but think of Rumplestiltskin. He definitely didn't love her. Regina had confirmed that. The Dark One was incapable of love. No one in their right mind would love her anyway. Yet, she knew that she loved him. She knew it and felt it every day, that yearning to be with the man she loved. There were times where she'd imagine he was here with her, but that never ended up well.

What would she say to him, if she could see him again? _Hey. I was tortured even more and I know you're indifferent to me but I love you. I know the feeling's not requited, but oh well!_ No. That would just sound plain stupid. There was nothing she _could_ say to him. All she wanted was to be in the same room as him. They didn't even have to do anything, just breathe. In the same room.

Belle mentally smacked herself. She was acting more pathetic than usual. Maybe it was the scenery change, or the fact that now she was squeezed into a barred cage that was way too small for her, despite the fact that she'd hardly eaten in the past twenty-eight years. It was becoming harder and harder for her to not squirm, but she didn't want to alarm her nurse.

There was another twenty or so minutes of quiet, with Belle shifting every now and then and feeling very, very closed in. A knock emanated from outside of the room, scaring both prisoner and nurse. Harvey jumped to her feet and rushed over to the cage, pushing it into a corner and covering it with a blanket, promising Belle that she'd be right back.

Harvey approached the door and unlocked it, opening it just enough to see who was out there. She was beyond shocked at who it was. "Mr. Gold?"

**~XXX~**

Regina tightened her lips as she heard the all-too familiar sound of footsteps accompanied by the clicking of a cane. She was bent over, writing on an important document. "I knew you'd be coming," she muttered to the new arrival without even looking up.

Mr. Gold had anger on his face, though he was trying to keep it under control. "Yes, Madam Mills," he greeted her through gritted teeth. "I have come to collect something that you currently possess which belongs rightfully to me," he began, not wanting to start with his snap in case it would lure the mayor to do unspeakable things.

She grinned in reply, finally meeting his gaze. "Oh, yes? I thought we made the deal that this office was mien and you could no longer collect rent on it," she responded sarcastically.

Mr. Gold took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Not what I mean, dearie." He walked even closer to her desk, so that his cane was a whisker away from touching it. "Release Belle," he demanded. "Please."

Regina scowled as she heard that last word. She remembered her deal she made with him back in her castle. "Very well," she agreed. She would have liked to keep the girl for a little while, but Rumplestiltskin was ever the clever one. "Return to the front of the building, take a left, and she's in the room at the end of the hallway."

**~XXX~**

Belle had heard Harvey's greeting to the man on the other side of the door. Her heartbeat quickened considerably. She was not expecting to see him so soon. She was not expecting to see him at all for the rest of her life. She gently pressed her ear against the bars, trying to hear their conversation clearer.

"Yes," Mr. Gold replied to the nurse's shocked tone. "May I come in? I have to search for something I've misplaced," his voice was stressed and vexed all at the same time, making Belle's heart throb painfully in her chest.

Belle heard Harvey shuffling as the door creaked open. "Um, yes. Yes, you can come in. But I can assure you there's nothing in here except for me and a chair…" she sounded nervous. She slid her chair out of the way and let Mr. Gold enter the room. His eyes scanned the place, resting briefly on the medium-sized box in the corner.

He was obviously not satisfied. He faces Harvey. "Miss Green is it?" he asked, but didn't wait for a reply. "I am looking for a woman by the name of Belle French. Do you happen to know her?" he inquired. Harvey didn't answer. "I know you think you're protecting her, but trust me dearie, if you know where she is, she will be safest with me."

Harvey just sat and breathed for a couple more minutes before finally giving in with a sigh. Belle watched her silhouette grow greater as the nurse approached the cage. Belle flinched as suddenly the blanket was torn from atop the cage. Light met her eyes and she blinked, before resting her gaze on Mr. Gold.

The horror on his face was instantaneous. Mr. Gold looked at her in shock. She had a black eye, a busted lip, and cuts all over her face, arms, and any other body part visible. Her shoulder was awkward and both of her hands and wrists seemed as if they just weren't right. Protectiveness and ire filled his face and she looked away shyly. He turned towards the nurse roughly. "Let her go!" he bellowed.

Belle's head snapped upwards. "Don't!" she gasped. "Don't do it Harvey. You know what the mayor said. You have to keep me here or else she'll kill you. It's not worth it!" she debated, her sudden outburst a surprise to all three of them.

Mr. Gold's lips tightened, though. "If you don't let her go," he kept his words directed towards the nurse. "I might just have to kill you myself," he threatened. The look on Harvey's face was pure fear. She stuttered helplessly, feeling doomed and cornered. She seemed to wriggle in her spot uncomfortably.

"No you won't," Belle contradicted. Mr. Gold met her gaze and his eyes softened. "I know you and you-"she swiftly cut herself off. She averted her gaze, looking down at her hands which were in her lap, her broken bones pulsing achingly with each passing second. She had to remind herself that he did not love her. He could not love her. She knew nothing about him.

Mr. Gold took a step closer to her, tentative as to not arouse her in any way. "Finish your sentence," he commanded. Belle shook her head quickly, looking like she just wanted to shrink into the floor. "Finish your sentence," he ordered again. She still denied the request. "Finish the sentence," he said one more time, his tone slightly harsher.

Belle just shook her head again. He asked again, obviously trying to keep his temper under control. "Why are you doing this?' Belle suddenly exclaimed. She stared right into the eyes of the man she loved, fire and determination clear in her own eyes. "Why do you keep trying? Both of you! It's enough already. I'm tired of hearing the pity in your voices and seeing that sympathy in your eyes. It's all false. I know it's fake. You all need to stop pretending that you actually care because you're technically lying and I won't stand for it!" she shouted, fed up.

There was a long moment of silence, so quiet you could hear the crickets chirp. Mr. Gold gaped at Belle, astonished. He didn't know how to reply to that. He was always one with words, this time he was out of words to say. "Belle…" he whispered. He realized that that was first time he'd addressed her by her name since she was taken. He'd been too caught up in what had been done to her.

Belle stared back at him levelly, her jaw clenched. Her eyes held bright determination and longing and even, a hint of love. "Don't," she stated, pride in her voice. "Don't give me that. Don't give me the false lies and pretend that they are true. Because no matter what you say, I know you don't really care about me."

Before Mr. Gold could reply, Harvey jerked. She marched over to Belle's cage, with key in hand. "Harvey, what are you doing?" Belle protested. "I can't let you do this; they'll kill you! They'd at least keep me alive…" she complained, worry etched into her features.

Harvey just shook her head, pursing her lips temporarily. "Don't care. I'm tired of you saying that no one cares for you. I know that you were brainwashed, and I'm not annoyed with you, I just want you to learn that people do love you and want you," she responded as she unlocked the cage, opening it. "Please Belle, go. I'll be alright, I promise. No one deserves what you've been through. Please, go."

Belle hesitated, looking at Harvey guiltily, before she crawled out of the cage the best she could, her broken bones screeching at her in protest. They brought tears to her eyes but she blinked them away.

She stood up and faced Harvey. "Thank you…" she whispered before turning to Mr. Gold. He hadn't said a word since Belle had accused him of false love. Right then, he stepped forwards to be closer to her.

"I don't know what that evil soul did to you…" he started, his voice shaking a little bit. "But you need to understand that I do love you… With all my heart. You brought light into my life, Belle, and I am forever grateful… No words can express how much you mean to me, my darling…" his words were soft and tender, as if he was exploring a new realm and wanted to tread lightly as to not make a mistake.

Belle kept her gaze low, obviously trying not to cry. "I know you think you love me, but I can't believe that… It hurts for me to think about it; she used something called electroconvulsive therapy. I-I mean it's clearing up a little bit but it seemed to have brought some cloud over my brain or something… I don't know," she admitted, staring into his eyes.

Harvey chimed in then. "Electroconvulsive therapy tends to bring a fog over one's mind, and it can take a little while to clear up. In the olden days, the shock therapy, as it is also called, was used to clear people of mental illnesses, as if they could shock it out of a person. If done several times, it could work. It was performed on Belle twice, which shows her confusion. My best guess is while her mind was weak; Regina took advantage and fed her lies."

Ire flared within Mr. Gold's brown irises. He forced himself to calm down, though. "Come with me, Belle," he told her simply, taking her left hand and beginning to lead her out of the room. She flinched and jerked her hand back, biting her lip with agony on her face.

"I, uh… I have two broken bones in my left ring finger, one broken bone in my right thumb, my left wrist is fractured and my right wrist has a broken bone… And my right shoulder was dislocated…" she mumbled. Mr. Gold took a deep breath and letting it out slowly before gently encircling her upper back with his hand, not rough enough to hurt her old wounds. She followed this time, shooting Harvey one last, grateful look before exiting with Mr. Gold.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they left the building, hand in hand. Mr. Gold made sure to slow down after he realized how hard it was for Belle to go fast. Luckily for her, the dress was doing a fine job of covering her bruised, marred legs.

Mr. Gold took a couple of seconds to provide the answer. "Somewhere safe," he said, glancing at her with a small smile on his lips and love hidden in his mysterious gaze. Belle stopped all of a sudden, her face troubled as she stared at the ground, her cerulean eyes wide. She was slightly trembling, as if experiencing something horrible. "What? What is it, Belle? What's wrong?" he asked tenderly, his voice laced with worry.

Belle just gave her head a tiny shake, apparently out of the flashback by now. She met Mr. Gold's gaze. "Sorry…" she muttered. "It's just earlier, Regina said those exact words to me before squeezing me into the cage," she shrugged, carefully crossing her arms over her chest as to not bump any of her injuries.

There was a look of regret on Mr. Gold's face. "I'm sorry, Belle. I didn't mean to bring anything back," he apologized, feeling awkward and like he didn't really know who she was anymore. After all she'd been through, she'd changed somehow. She was more uncertain, less sure of herself. However, she was still his Belle. He would help her get through this.

Belle shot him a small, brief smile that made his heart ache. "It's alright; you don't need to apologize to me. I know you meant well, it's just I need to get my life in order," she offered a nervous laugh, hesitantly linking her right hand with his but keeping her thumb out of the way. "Is this okay…?" she inquired precariously.

In an attempt to make her feel better, Mr. Gold grinned as kindly as he could, though he was bad at this. He was never very good at making people feel better, so this was new. "It's perfect," he assured her as relief flooded her face. He tightened his grip on her fingers slightly, steering clear of her thumb. "Now come on. Let's go home."

They walked together in quiet after that, neither of them quite knowing what to say after everything that had happened. The peace was good enough for them, not too loud and not too silent either. Both of them wished that they could express their love for the other one more but neither was sure where the line was and what would be too much.

Without bearing it a second glance, the duo passed by Granny's Diner, where Ruby was working inside. The waitress just happened to look out the window at just the right time. She was alarmed; she swore she knew that face. It wasn't easy to see it clearly from this far away, but she wanted a closer look. Luckily, there weren't very many people in the Diner that day; just Leroy, Ashley, and Archie were there at that time.

"Hey Granny, I'm going to be right back. I'll just be checking something outside, alright?" Ruby asked hopefully, facing her grandmother who was sitting at the cash register with concentration on her face.

Granny gave a small grunt. "Hurry back, Drag Queen," she mumbled grumpily, but Ruby rushed out the door without another thought, cheerful as always. Ruby scampered towards the group she had seen, who were just a few feet farther now. Her heartbeat quickened slightly as she realized that it was Mr. Gold with the girl, but she continued on determinedly.

"Hey!" she called out. The girl paused, but Mr. Gold urged her forwards, speeding up a little bit as if annoyed. They were still pretty slow, still, and Ruby wondered why. She came close enough so she could hear their conversation.

The girl was talking. "Oh, come on! She seems friendly. She's coming towards us; you and I both know we can't outrun her. I'm battered and you've got a cane again. She's in perfect shape." Mr. Gold snorted at this and muttered something Ruby couldn't catch. He wasn't talking as loud as the girl. Ruby was thrown off slightly by the sweet lilt in the girl's voice, but kept running towards them. "Trust me for once, would you?" the girl said.

Ruby did hear Mr. Gold's reply this time. "How could I trust you when you can't trust yourself, dearie?" His tone was final and he started walking again. Ruby realized that their fingers were intertwined and was bewildered temporarily. However, she caught up to them.

"Mr. Gold, what are you doing here? I mean… Not what are you doing here..." she fumbled. Ruby had always been slightly intimidated by Mr. Gold. The pair had turned to face her now, the girl curious and Mr. Gold annoyed. Ruby addressed Mr. Gold though, not looking at the girl yet. "Do you want to introduce me to your friend?"

There was a hint of hatred in Mr. Gold's face and he really looked like he didn't want to. That's when the girl spoke up again. "Oh, come on Mr. Gold. You can't just lock me away from the world. Not like she did," her tone was accusing as she cocked her head to the side, meeting his gaze before turning back to Ruby with a gentle smile. "Hello, I'm-"

"Holy shoot, what happened to your face!?" Ruby exclaimed before she realized what she was saying. Then she covered her mouth with both hands. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean that! I-I was just… I was just a little surprised… Please don't be angry," she pleaded.

The girl looked a little unsure now rather than before, but she still met Ruby's eyes. Her smile had fallen. "I got in a little accident… I tend to be clumsy," she gave a dry laugh that seemed a little too forced. Mr. Gold had tightened his jaw and was staring at Ruby with a clear warning on his face.

Ruby laughed wryly as well. "I'm sorry again. I just wasn't expecting it," she recovered. The girl's grin returned, but a little smaller this time. Ruby studied the girl's face. Apart from the marks, she looked a _lot_ like the person that Emma described, and even more so like the pictures. "I'm Ruby. May I ask your name?" Ruby inquired.

The girl shot a glance at Mr. Gold's stoic expression before returning her attention to Ruby. "Ah, Belle," she answered. Ruby's face lit up with hope, her hand slipping into her back pocket and retrieving a phone. Belle only knew about those because of the dang curse.

Belle was slightly confused, but told her anyway. "French. My name is Belle French." This news seemed to excite Ruby a little too much. She knew that that was Belle she'd seen go by! She knew it! At that point, she was feeling very proud of herself. She didn't even have to talk up Jefferson to find the girl.

"I have got to call Emma!" Ruby squealed in pride and cheer.

"No you don't," Mr. Gold said at the same time Belle gasped, "You know Emma?"

Ruby dialed a number and lifted her cellphone to her ear. She ignored the questions for now, urging Emma to pick up the phone faster. There were three rings before she finally answered. "Emma!" Ruby's tone was rushed. "I found Belle! She was just walking down the street with Mr. Gold. Yeah. She's alive. Mhm. We're outside The Rabbit Hole. Hurry!"

Belle was staring at Ruby doubtfully now. She wanted to know just who Ruby really was. She didn't enjoy some of the things that Ruby had told to the phone. "What do you mean, you 'found' me?" she asked, skeptical. She stepped closer to Mr. Gold self-consciously, tugging down her sleeves slightly to hide the wounds and scrapes that dotted her arms.

Ruby was just a tiny embarrassed that Belle and Mr. Gold were listening in on her side of the phone call. "Uh… It's just that Emma was looking for you and she kinda told me to keep an eye out if I could and that if I found you that she wanted me to contact her immediately, so I did," she shrugged. "She's on her way right now," she added.

Before Belle could reply, Mr. Gold cleared his throat. He stepped forwards, tightening his grip on Belle's hand but not enough to hurt her. "Alright, that's quite enough chit chat now. Belle, let's go back home; I'll get you some medicine and an ice pack," he told her.

"No," Belle refused. "Believe it or not, the effects of the therapy are wearing off and I'm figuring things out. I want to talk to Emma," she declared. "The painkillers and the frozen water can wait," she continued bravely. A dark look overcame Mr. Gold's face, but Belle just smiled. "Please?" she pleaded.

Mr. Gold sighed, but he was not defeated yet. He may have been weakened by her kindness and that beautiful smile that lit up her entire battered face, but he still fought nonetheless. "Why would you want to discuss with a person who got you tortured, who sent you back into Hell after you'd already escaped?" he inquired semi-harshly.

Belle hesitated, allowing Ruby to cut in. "What do you mean?" she asked. She was beyond confused with their conversation by now. It was strange enough seeing the two of them together; hearing them talk as if they knew each other was even worse. "Emma didn't do that, did she?"

Belle chose to ignore Ruby's questions for now; the waitress could always ask the sheriff herself. She finally conceived an okay reply to her true love. "She didn't mean it. She was jumbled and she had a lot going on. She's the sheriff; give her a break. Even if you haven't forgiven her, I have, and I will defend my decision no matter what," she raised her chin in defiance.

That's when the sheriff's car pulled to a stop right beside them. Inside, Emma hurried to put the brake on and unbuckle her. She glanced out her window; everyone had turned towards her. She flooded with anxiety and relief at the same time as she recognized Belle's face. She threw open her door and stumbled out, rushing towards the girl. "Belle! Oh my god, are you okay!? I was so worried, I'm so sorry!" she let out all in one breath, wanting to touch Belle as if to make sure she was real but being afraid to hurt her.

Emma was regretful to find that Belle was already in worse shape than she had been when she was taken again. Belle took one step back, overwhelmed. "I, uh, I'm fine…" she muttered. She had wanted to see Emma so badly, but now she didn't know what to do. She had thoughts haunting her mind, spitting lies at her. "But, I don't want you to lie to me anymore."

This bewildered Emma and she stared at Belle, her mouth agape. "What do you mean? I never lied to you," she argued.

"You're lying to me right now," Belle pointed out stoically, but Emma still didn't comprehend what she meant. "I know you don't really care," Belle spoke the lines fed to her by the chip that she didn't know was implanted in her brain. "No one really cares about me," she continued with a small shrug, staring at the ground.

Emma gaped at Belle in shock. "How could you say that? Lots of people care about you. You know that. There's me, Mary Margaret, I'm sure you have family, and as much as I hate to say it, I think Mr. Gold cares about you as well," she pointed out. At this, Mr. Gold took a protective step towards her. Belle opened her mouth to reply, but Emma cut her off. "Hang on; we need to get you to Archie. He'll help figure this out," she said.

A scowl crossed onto Mr. Gold's face. "She does not need to see a therapist," he declared.

Emma turned to him, anger in her eyes. "Yeah? How do you know what she needs? She was locked in an asylum; my duty as sheriff is to make sure there was no true reason that she was locked there. If you stand in the way, Mr. Gold, that would be considered obstruction of justice, and I do believe you wouldn't want to find yourself behind bars again," she spat.

Mr. Gold took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep control of his temper. "I will go with you when you take her to see Archie _tomorrow,"_ Emma looked triumphant at his words. "IF," Mr. Gold added. "You let her stay at my house overnight. I can guarantee that there would be no interruptions from the mayor and that she would be completely safe."

Belle turned towards the both of them after exchanging a look with Ruby, who was even more bewildered than Emma. "I'm right here," Belle interrupted, sort of annoyed. "I have an opinion as well. This is my choice. If you want to take me to the shrink, so be it; I don't care. I will stay with Mr. Gold only if I get to see Mary Margaret again," she announced.

**~XXX~**

Emma stopped before knocking on the front door of the beautiful salmon Victorian, turning around to face Mary Margaret again. Mr. Gold, Belle, and her had come to an agreement. Belle would stay with Mr. Gold and Emma would bring Mary Margaret over for a visit. Mary Margaret looked anxious to get inside. Once Emma and the others had parted ways for then, Emma had headed back home to get her roommate and tell her the news.

"Come on Emma, just knock. I want to see her," Mary Margaret complained, nudging her younger roommate gently and impatiently.

"Wait," Emma denied. "First I have to… Warn you, I guess. Belle's not exactly who she used to be. A lot had been done to her. Be careful around her hands and her right shoulder, as well as her wrists. In fact, be careful when touching her at all. She still hasn't told me what happened, but it seems bad." There was horror on Mary Margaret's face. "Oh, and also don't try to say that you worried about her or anything. Or that you care about you. I know it may be true, but…" she trailed off.

Mary Margaret waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, she prompted her. "But what? Why can't I show any care for her?" she inquired curiously, a hint of betrayal and sadness in her voice. The latter was more obvious.

Emma sighed, letting her gaze rest on the ground momentarily before returning to Mary Margaret. "I don't know what Regina did to her, but the girl seems pretty darn convinced that no one could ever care about her… I know that's not really her because I had seen some confidence peeking out earlier, but we'll just have to be wary for now. If you mention it, she might stress herself out or something and that would be no good."

A brief pause filled the air as Mary Margaret considered what to say next. Emma seemed rather wary of Belle, and it made Mary Margaret sort of scared to see the girl again. She didn't doubt that Belle had changed. "Emma… Just how bad is she…?" Mary Margaret asked, stared at Emma cautiously.

Emma shot Mary Margaret a look that was shadowed with anguish. "She's pretty bad…" the sheriff responded before knocking on the door thrice.

The sound of a cane clicking formally and ceremoniously against hardwood floors emanated from behind the door, and in just a few split seconds, the door creaked open. Mr. Gold stepped into the doorway, the rest of the house shielded. "Miss Swan, Miss Blanchard. What a delightful surprise," he feigned hospitality.

The blonde rolled her eyes and placed one hand on the doorframe. "Can it, Gold. Let us see Belle like you promised. And don't even try to protest that you didn't promise such thing, because I don't think that would make her too happy," she let out all in one breath.

Mr. Gold's lips tightened. He had been planning to find a way to get out of letting them risk hurting his Belle again, but now he had to let them in. "Very well. Come on in. She's in her room; she'll be out in a few seconds," he replied through gritted teeth, opening the door wider and letting the mother and daughter barge in just like they barged into everything else. It ran in the family.

Mr. Gold beckoned them towards the couch, but one glare form the savior and he had decided to drop the act fully. "Belle, dearie," he called down the hallway. "The squad is here to stick their noses into our business."

There was a small clang from another room, Belle's room, and then they heard the faint sound of Belle's voice travelling through the walls. "Oh come on, you could be a little nicer, don't you think? They're just trying to help." A vague shuffling followed her words but she remained in the room. "One second," she called, her tone frustrated.

It was five minutes later and she still didn't come. Mr. Gold sighed, excused himself, and ventured down the hall towards the room he'd settled Belle in. As he approached, a curse word met his ear, the voice completely hers. "Belle, are you alright?" he asked, entering. He was met with an interesting, but not surprising sight.

Belle was on the floor, books strewn around the floor. Next to her, the bookshelf had fallen. Belle was trying to lift it up, but after twenty-eight years in an asylum, she wasn't exactly as big as she used to be. Not to mention she was smothered with wounds. She turned and tried to use her back to push it against the wall, but the weight on her scars made her stumble and be crushed under it. She cursed again.

Mr. Gold's eyebrows lifted slightly. He walked over towards her and grunted as he lifted the vintage bookshelf with one hand. He mentally snapped Regina's neck for giving him such heavy objects in his house. "You need to be more careful, dearie. Are you alright?" he inquired, holding one hand out to Belle.

She took his hand in her right now, of course keeping her thumb out of the way. Mr. Gold had helped her wrap all of her breaks and fractures and whatnot in bandages, and he promised he'd pick up something stronger the next day, after her appointment with Archie. "Thanks," she breathed as he helped her up. She stared down at the scattered books on the floor, inhaling deeply.

"Leave them," Mr. Gold told her. "We'll pick them up afterwards. For now you have guests waiting and I'd prefer to have them out of my house," he decided not to sugarcoat his words. Belle gave him a stern look and began her journey down the hallway. Mr. Gold had also lent her some of his socks since her feet had been aching from sudden use. She had been overwhelmed by the measures and precautions he took to make sure she was not in pain, but was too tired to argue right then. Mr. Gold followed her wordlessly.

Mary Margaret's face lit up as she saw Belle and Mr. Gold meandering towards them. A small smile bloomed on Belle's face as she stopped right in front of Mary Margaret. The teacher tried to really take her in. She had white wrapping on her left ring finger, right thumbs, both of her wrists, and around her right shoulder. She was also covered with bruises and cuts everywhere else from as far as Mary Margaret could see.

Neither one of the women did anything for the next minute or so. They just stared at each other, surveying one another. Belle felt indebted to Mary Margaret for all she had done, and Mary Margaret was overcome with that old mother's instinct that she couldn't quite determine what it was. Little did she know, it was from back in the Enchanted Forest. Belle finally broke the silence. "I wanted to see you again, to… Thank you, for what you did. I know you really didn't mean it and that's okay. Thank you anyway."

She felt like she was treading on dangerous ground, and she didn't know why. Her words bewildered Mary Margaret, but the schoolteacher thought back on what Emma had said to her earlier and understood. Belle thought that she was worthless. Mary Margaret's heart ached for the girl and she wanted to contradict those thoughts, but she was afraid she might hurt something or someone.

**~XXX~**

_Belle was having a nightmare. The scenes kept flashing and changing, though, so it was becoming hard for her to comprehend what was happening. All she knew was her head hurt so much that it was becoming hard for her to see without blinking dots clouding her vision. She didn't know why this was happening or why her head ached but she knew there was a reason._

_"__Remember, dearie, you deserve this," the cold, snake-like tone of Regina Mills filled Belle's head as she was finally able to distinguish vague pictures from the scenes. There was a baton, a rag, a rose, a face. Belle was startled to see a brief flash of Rumplestiltskin's face; not Mr. Gold's face, but Rumplestiltskin's._

_She also caught glimpses of Emma with her gun pointed at Belle, Mary Margaret screaming as she saw Belle with Mr. Gold, and lots of Regina. Regina was hurting her, punishing her, kicking her, shocking her, and more. All of these pictures were things Belle had gone through, events she had lived through._

_"__Calm down, Miss French," said a voice that she couldn't recognize. Her vision was still changing every half of a second. "It's going to be alright, you don't need to worry. I promise you," it echoed even though the scenes continued to switch._

_Finally, it rested on one. However, this particular one was one that she did not remember. She was lying in a hospital bed, fear on her face. There was a doctor right next to her bed. It wasn't Dr. Whale. This one had dark skin and sleek black hair that was receding as well as wicked but at the same time kind green eyes. He was the one whom the voice was emanating from._

_He had a syringe in his hand filled with almost transparent purple liquid. He flicked it once before approaching her. A couple more doctors were bringing an evil-looking machine over to her. "It's okay," purred the one doctor, his nametag reading Dr. Larry Whiskers. "We're just going to-"suddenly the dream altered, now static. It was temporary, though, as just a few seconds later it returned to Dr. Whiskers. He had already finished his sentence from before. "It's going to help you forget."_

_Now the nightmare changed one last time, switching to when she was being beaten by batons for the first time. They kept smacking her, damaging her, and ultimately breaking her. She was determined not to shatter, but the Inflictors were relentless._

She woke up screaming. Usually she would wake up calmer, but this time her thoughts were like a wildfire and her brain was the forest. She forced herself into a sitting position and stopped her shrieking, but from what she'd witnessed and felt, she couldn't stop herself from sobbing. She curled up in that way that she used to; her legs were pulled up to her chest with her arms around them and her forehead pressed to her knees.

She couldn't subside her wracking sobs, however much she wanted to. They just wouldn't stop. In her sleep, she had torn off the bandaging on her left wrist and something had happened with her shoulder. There were a few blood stains on the sheets; apparently she had been tossing and turning a lot.

In just a few seconds' time, Mr. Gold was opening her door, a terrified look on his face at what he might find. He had been worried that something would happen to her overnight. It was only 1:15 am right now. He found himself beyond relieved to see that she was still alive, but she was weeping so much that her body was shaking. "Stay away," he heard her mutter.

Of course, to him, that was an invitation to come closer. He approached the bed and hesitantly climbed onto it, resting his cane against the bed. He was following his instinct now; he was following his heart.

It wasn't too big of a bed, but it did fit them both. He shuffled over to her. "Belle sweetheart, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. Tentatively he encircled her shoulders with one arm, lightly brushing her skin and sending shivers down her spine. She tensed up at first, but after realizing who it was, she had relaxed, her cries quieted to just tears without any ugly noises.

She wanted to ask what he was doing, but she felt too tired. Instead, she gave into the warmth and slowly was bribed out of her fetal position. Soon she found herself with her legs slightly curled still but much more comfortably. Her arms were in front of her, crossed just a little bit. She was trying to deny the irresistible comfort that her love gave off, but it wasn't working.

Finally, she gave in completely. She shifted so her head was on his chest, hoping that he wouldn't throw her off or anything. She was mostly glad that he seemed to understand that she didn't really feel like talking. She reached over with one of her hands and placed it on his side, as if hugging him. She ignored the pain that radiated through her body; she wouldn't let that hold her back this time.

Belle wanted to be with him so badly; she wanted to feel her lips against his again, to have no doubt in her mind that he loved her. But she wasn't worthy. She knew that. No. Belle furrowed her brow; that couldn't be right at all. What was happening? She would have never thought she was unworthy of his love. What had Regina done to her?

She couldn't help but think back to her nightmare. The doctor, Dr. Whiskers, had seemed so real, as if she wasn't just living a portion of her imagination, but almost a memory… She suddenly jerked, alarming Mr. Gold. "What happened?" he asked, trying to keep his tone indifferent.

_"__It's going to help you forget," _Dr. Whiskers had said. Belle stared at Mr. Gold' her eyes wide. The suddenly she slid as quickly as she could out of the bed, Mr. Gold following her.

Belle began to pace the floor. Mr. Gold watched her cautiously before Belle finally turned towards him with excitement in her eyes. "I've got it! There's… There's something missing from my memories, I just know there is. There has to be," she enthused, stepping closer to him, her cheer long overthrowing her wounds.

Mr. Gold seemed confused by her words, but eager to know the meaning. "What do you mean?" he inquired. "How do you know this?"

"I had a dream, a nightmare. It's why I was screaming," she began with an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry if I woke you up; I didn't mean to. Anyway, in the dream at one point I was in a hospital bed and there was a doctor. He had a syringe and there was a…A machine," she was trying hard to remember all of the details.

Mr. Gold furrowed his brow in concentration. He wasn't completely sure that he believed her, but he did want to believe her and he did want to know what she had to say. What he wanted most of all was to help her, though. He wanted to keep her safe. "How do you know this was not just a figment of your imagination? And what kind of machine was it?"

Belle shot him a serious look. "It felt too real to be fake. It felt as if… As if I was reliving it. And in the dream came several other flashes that I do remember. I can't remember what the machine looked like… The doctor, Dr. Larry.. Larry…" she made a frustrated noise. "Why can't I remember his last name?" she stressed. Mr. Gold prompted her and her face lit up when the name came to mind. "Whiskers! Dr. Larry Whiskers."

There was a short awkward pause as Mr. Gold shot Belle a doubtful look before he quickly changed it. He had to believe her; he had to have faith in her. "I've never heard of him; he must not live in one of the places I own." He quickly decided to change the subject. "This Dr. Whiskers, did he say anything or do anything?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that it was still the middle of the night.

Belle hesitated before answering. She seemed the slightest bit uneasy but recovered quickly, her smile sprouting on her face again, this time smaller. "Yeah, uh, he said… He said that I should calm down and that they were going to do something. I didn't hear what they were going to do, but he told me that it would help me forget. That must mean that there's something I'm missing," she insisted stubbornly.

Mr. Gold was becoming more and more furious with Regina by the second. "What, do you want to go to the hospital and demand they check you for anything? Because if you do, I won't like it, but I'd let you," he said, trying to keep his anger under control. He had to be on his best behavior around Belle. He knew that.

Belle shook her head swiftly. "Not unless you knock me out and drag my body there; I am not going back to that bloody hospital willingly ever again. It's in the basement of that building where the asylum was placed. I don't want to go back there. You can take me there if you want but I'm not going without a fight," she warned.

Mr. Gold sighed; he didn't know what to say anymore. He did know that he would be giving Regina a nice little whooping as soon as he could get his hands on her. No guarantee she'd live. "Believe it or not, Belle, but I do care about you, and I want you to have everything you want in the world, and if you want to remember whatever it is you are missing, then I will help you with that. Now, you should go get some rest; you've got an appointment with Archie in about eight hours."

**A/N: I just have to say I'm sorry for those of you that might have gotten mad at Belle in this chapter; I was upset just writing it. But I promise that everything will be revealed soon, and you will learn that she has no say in what she says or thinks. But until then, thank you all so much for reviewing and following, it means so much to me that you guys actually appreciate my writing :).**


End file.
